


Never Enter the Mansion

by Tassledown



Category: HetaOni, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abusive FACE family dynamics, Abusive France/England, Adapted fangame, Alcohol/Smoking, Anxious Germany, Autistic Character, Badass Canada, Body Horror, Disabled Character, Disordered Eating, Drug Addiction, Empire!England not Nice!England, Excessive Violence, F/M, Gen, Heroin use in story, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pov, PTSD, Past Sexual Abuse, Roughly in order of importance, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 38
Words: 134,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a G20 meeting in Kyoto, America hears of a haunted house three hours out of town and gets the Allies to go with him. When they haven't come back by evening, Japan, Germany, Italy, and Prussia go to find them. </p><p>(Novelization/Fanfiction of the fangame HetaOni, based off Ao Oni and Hetalia both. It does not assume familiarity with the game, and contains my own ending for the story.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my attempt to finish and tidy up plot holes in the fan game HetaOni. It should be understandable to people who haven't played or watched the game. It is largely faithful to the game, but not completely as I edited bits for clarity and to tie into the endgame I created for it.
> 
> I largely try to tie characterization into canon, but I consider history important too. Veneziano once was the Kingdom of Venice, and England the good and the bad of the British Empire. If you only read Nice!England, please do us both a favour and skip this story.
> 
> I will put content warnings for each chapter in the end notes. Those who want them can click the link in "See the end of work for notes" to access them before reading. I will NOT warn for mindfuck and physical violence (that's in every chapter and would get repetitive) but above and beyond.
> 
> Warnings will include: Abusive relationships and discussion thereof, particularly the FACE family. Repeated Heroin use. Graphic deaths. Disordered eating (and food prep scenes). Passing use of alcohol and cigarettes. 
> 
> The story is set in modern times.

Kiku couldn't remember if he'd ever heard of this mansion before. It wasn't far from Kyoto, but it also wasn't on the main routes in or out of the city. Based on the size and distinctiveness of the European-style manor house, the owner must've been someone of distinction but Kiku couldn't think of his name. 

It also was not in as bad of repair as the rumours said. The windows were barred and unbroken, and the front door appeared solid, but this home had become a haunted house favoured by the local high school boys for tests of bravery. To no one's surprise America had insisted on going to see it, but if Kiku hadn't been told it was abandoned, he would never have guessed from looking at it.

“Are you sure this is the place America spoke of?” Kiku asked. “I'm not sure I'm comfortable if we have to break in.”

“It really is abandoned!” Italy insisted. “I know, it looks really nice to me, too!”

“I'm almost disappointed,” Prussia said. “I expected something darker.”

“It doesn't feel right to me either.” Germany shook his head. “I'm not sure I want to go in if we're not sure.”

“Nobody's in the driveway, West, it's fine.” Prussia scuffed the gravel. “I doubt anyone's driven on this in years, it looks like it's barely not giving in to weeds.” He stalked up to the front door and tried the door. It opened without a struggle, and Prussia turned and smiled at them. “Ta da.”

“That does not mean it's abandoned.” Germany insisted.

“Whatever's not nailed down –”

“Gilbert!” Italy said. “Please Ludwig, if someone's home we can apologize but the road here was all a mess! Maybe the neighbours keep it up?”

“It still looks lived in,” Germany protested.

Kiku would've agreed, but Prussia had gone inside and called back to them.

“This isn't lived in. It's too clean, you can't actually maintain this... There's no shoes by the front door, nothing in the hallways, and almost no furniture. It doesn't even look like the other group came through here.”

“Perhaps the furniture simply met people like you first,” Germany mumbled.

Kiku did not comment. He followed Prussia inside to look around and found that he agreed. The only sign of anyone in the house was the absence of dust and decay. The entryway was at the junction of three hallways and a stairway. Straight ahead, there was a large room behind the staircase where Prussia was looking around. 

“Someone must be taking care of the house,” Prussia suggested. “There's an old set of armour here and some chests, but...”

“I still don't like this.” Germany rubbed his arms. Italy leaned against him, watching him in such a way Kiku looked away so as not to embarrass them. Italy glanced at him and stepped back.

“Is anyone else cold?” Italy asked. “It's such a big house, it must not heat up as it goes through the day.”

Prussia came back and ruffled Italy's hair. “Yeah, it is a little cold in here.”

Something shattered down the hall. Italy shrieked and grabbed onto Germany's arm. Kiku turned to peer down the left hallway, certain it had come from that direction.

“What was that?” Prussia snapped.

“Something broke,” Kiku pointed down the hall he suspected. “I'll go see what it was. Please wait here?”

Prussia nodded and Kiku went. The room to his left was locked and did not open. The door at the far end of the hallway was slightly ajar. Kiku pushed it open and went inside. There was an English-style sitting room along the front wall, a dining table in front of the door and the kitchen with a bar between it and the dining area. 

The back wall had cupboards and another door. Kiku started towards the door, then saw a broken plate on the floor. He crouched and picked up one of the pieces. It was ordinary ceramic, and appeared to have just been knocked off the counter. He stood up with a frown.

There was nothing else out on the counters, not even a dish cloth or condiments. Kiku ran his fingers along the shard, but felt no grain of dust. He wrapped the shard in a handkerchief, in case Prussia or Germany wanted to see it, and returned to the hallway, unnerved and unwilling to investigate more alone.

In the hallway, no one was in sight and there was no sign of them behind the staircase either. The room back there had tatami floors, and it just as empty and clean as the kitchen. The closets were barren and the armour Prussia had mentioned was stilll there. The only thing out of place was a paper note left on one of the chests. Written in English was “Repair the piano, fix the toilets, replace the first aid kit in the drawer on the second floor.”

Kiku left the note there and tried the door behind the staircase. It was locked with, upon inspection, a deadbolt. Kiku gave up on it. Perhaps they had gone outside to warm up. He returned to the front door and turned the handle.

The door would not open.

Kiku cursed and inspected the handle and locks in bewilderment. It was the kind of lock that required a key to lock or unlock it both inside and out, a style formerly common in England. It had obviously been unlocked when they came in and, as far as he knew, nobody with them had a key. All the same, the deadbolt was now engaged.

Perhaps Prussia had locked it with his lockpicks as a joke? Germany would never let him do it; Italy definitely would not have. He looked outside through a window and saw no sign of them on the front lawn.

Kiku abandoned the front door and stalked down the other hallway, uncertain what he would say when he found them. The first door was locked; the second was frosted glass. A shadow taller than Germany walked past as he watched. Kiku tried the door and found it locked as well. He rapped on the wooden frame in annoyance.

“Doitsu!” Kiku called. “Doitsu, Puroisen, open the door!”

No one answered. Kiku tried the handle again but it didn't give. He gave up and carried on to the end of the hallway. If one of the brothers was playing tricks, there was nothing he could do until they chose to stop. 

That door was unlocked and lead to a small bathroom with a sit toilet, sink, and a cupboard. A small window high in the wall let in fading light, and Kiku realized with dismay they'd likely be walking home in the dark. America and the others had almost certainly gone home by now and they must've missed them – somehow – on the walk here. There was nothing in the bathroom except for old soap and a musty towel. 

Kiku gave up on the ground floor and mounted the staircase, intending to express his displeasure whenever he caught up with his companions. He knew Prussia and Italy got distracted very easily, but Germany surely would've waited for him.

The first door upstairs was just to the right of the staircase. It was unlocked, leading to a bedroom. The room contained a bed, desk and a curtained closet on the back wall. Kiku pulled the curtain back and halted. Germany sat just inside on the bottom of a steep attic staircase, his arms clutched around his chest.

“Doitsu! What happened?”

Germany didn't respond, breathing in short, hard gasps. Kiku wasn't sure he'd heard him at all. He crouched to eye level and tried again.

“Ludwig, it's Honda. Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Germany blinked rapidly and nodded, licking his lips but still breathing so roughly he was shaking the staircase. Kiku sighed but he'd seen him like this before.

“Ludwig, you need to sit up. Slow down your breathing.”

Germany swallowed, and straightened his back. His breathing slowed. He wiped his face with both hands, then exhaled sharply.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't know what happened.”

Kiku nodded and knelt to get comfortable. “Do you know how you got up here? Where's Itaria and Puroisen?”

Germany nodded. “I don't know. Gilbert... he ran upstairs ahead of me and disappeared. I don't know what happened to Feliciano, we didn't go the same way. Gilbert dragged me with him and I escaped in here and shut the door.”

“What surprised you?”

“Something attacked us.” Germany looked past him and swallowed hard. “Something large. I didn't see much, it all happened so fast.”

Kiku glanced over his shoulder and noticed he'd left the bedroom door open.

“Here.” Germany held out a key. “I found this when I sat down. Maybe you can make use of it. Find Gilbert and Feliciano, please? I don't think I can walk yet.”

“Of course.” Kiku took the key and stood up. “I'll find them, I promise. If you stay here, I can come back to you once I have.”

Germany shivered, although the room was not cold. “I'm sorry I can't come with you.”

“Stay here until you feel better,” Kiku said firmly. He did not need to be worrying about him. “I'll be back soon.” 

He shut the curtain and the bedroom door as he left. He studied the key to see if there was any sign of what it opened and found inscribed on the bar in English 'Library – G.fl.'

G floor? Kiku wondered. There was no numbers in English that started with G. However, British English referred to the lowest floor as ground, then counted up. Kiku went back downstairs and, to be thorough, tried to make the key work on the front door. 

It didn't even fit in the lock.

He started with the single locked door before the kitchen. The key turned in the door handle's lock and Kiku got inside. He pocketed the key and looked up in time to see a tall grey-skinned figure disappear into a row of bookcases. 

Kiku froze. He suppressed a cough, swallowing against the tacky feeling in his throat. The door was swinging shut behind him and he closed it gently, not sure why he was afraid of it closing too hard. He tried to think if Russia had been wearing grey, but no, that wasn't Russia. It had been too tall and its proportions had not been human.

Surely he was hallucinating. The room smelled musty and was colder than the rest of the house. He could see no windows in the room; it must be incredibly hard for the caretaker to air it out.

There was no further movement in the room, and Kiku felt foolish at his caution with the door. He went to the table at the front of the room and looked over the papers and books scattered across it. There were several red leather journals half-full of note written in Japanese, English, and what Kiku thought was Latin. Underneath one of the journals was another key, very similar to the library key. He pulled the library key out to compare and had to suppress another cough. 

Purely on instinct, Kiku leapt back from the table. A massive fist slammed into the wood, tossing the papers and keys into the air. Kiku reached for his house, his closet, and yanked his swords from there to his hands, drawing his longsword as he did. He swept it across the grey-skinned monster's arm and deflected the next blow, turning to run for the door. He reached the door and dropped his belt and sheath to turn the door handle.

It clicked against the lock. The door handle bore a keyhole on this side as well. 

Kiku turned to catch the next blow with the edge of his sword. His feet were slammed down hard enough to crack the floorboards, his whole body jarred with the force of the blow. The monster jerked its fist back from the blade of his sword and stalked into the rows of bookcases. Kiku didn't wonder why. He ran back to the table and looked for the keys. He found them on the floor by the table and grabbed at one.

The first was cold. He dropped it and snatched up the second key, still warm from his hand, and raced back to the door. He forced it into the lock, turned it, and jerked it out to dart outside. He slammed the door shut behind himself, his body shaking with cold and adrenaline.

The hallway was reassuringly warm. Kiku backed away from the door, expecting to see it crushed and forced open any moment. 

Nothing happened.

Cautiously, Kiku stepped up to the door and keyed it open again. He stepped inside, the door propped against his foot. His sword belt was still on the floor behind the door.

The room felt different, and looked empty somehow in a way it hadn't before. 

Kiku glanced at the door handle again and found a small catch to prevent the door locking itself behind him. He tripped it and let the door shut, then buckled on his sword belt before he searched the library, checking every aisle for some sign of the monster that had attacked him. 

He found nothing. There was no sign anything else had been in the room at all.

The second key was still on the floor where he'd left it. Kiku checked a few of the books, but the content appeared to be more of England's interest in the occult than his own. Many were written in the same hand of an unidentified man who journalled primarily in Japanese except for long quotes in English or Latin. Kiku made a note to possibly come back, but in the meantime he still had to find Prussia and Italy and they were not here.

The bar on the second key simply said '3.fl.' Kiku checked the doors of each floor as he passed by. On the second floor, the second door on the back wall was also open and contained a folded horsewhip, like one Germany kept for recreational use. Kiku didn't remember seeing it on him, but it could easily have hidden in his jacket. Every other door on that floor and the one above was locked.

On the fourth floor – third, if the first floor counted as ground – the key worked on the first door he came to. The room contained two beds, a couch and desk, and a switch in the wall. On the coffee table, Kiku found a torn piece of paper on which were drawn two coloured blocks in felt pen. Kiku looked around for the second half of the paper, but there was no sign of it.

The hallway continued around to the front of the building and at the far end was another door. Kiku tried the key in that lock as well and was surprised to find it worked. Inside there was a more traditional sitting area, except for a red chair along the back wall. Next to that was a small bookcase skewed away from the wall, as it something were behind it.

The room didn't feel unpleasant, so Kiku went over and moved it to see. Behind it, jammed into a hole in the wall, was a mochi. Kiku crouched and gently pet its side. 

“It's okay,” he said. “How are you?”

The mochi retreated from his touch with a distressed chirp and tried to squish itself deeper into the hole. It fit well enough Kiku doubted that he could force it out if it did not wish to go. 

“Are you hiding?” he asked.

The mochi nodded curtly. Kiku sighed. He was not good with animals. If America were here, he'd ask him to handle it, but perhaps Germany could do something. Kiku traced the edge of the hole, determined to figure out what it was. The edges he could see were straight and finished. Perhaps this was a safe? If nothing else, the mochi was the first thing other than himself, the other Nations, and the monster alive in the house. It had to have gotten in somehow. Perhaps that way could be turned into their way out.

Kiku stood up and bowed to the mochi. “Do you wish me to move the bookcase back?”

The mochi nodded and Kiku obliged. He left the room at a loss for what to do next. In the hallway, he stopped and tried to reach his home in Tokyo again, in case that might be a solution. He felt like he was reaching through a wall of fire. He jerked his hand back and rubbed the pain, and the redness of a shallow burn, from his skin. Reaching for his swords had not felt right either, but he'd been too concerned with the fight to understand why at the time. 

He put off analyzing it further until he could ask the others. However, if he was blocked on his own land he didn't see how Germany could possibly reach around the world more easily. Asking Prussia or Italy would be better, given that they had more experience with the skill.

When he returned to the bedroom in which Germany had hidden, however, Kiku halted at the door. The closet, which had formerly been covered by a curtain, was now closed by a riveted metal door. Kiku approached it warily.

“Doitsu?” he called.

A whirring sound from inside stopped. “Honda? You're back?”

“Yes.” Kiku stared uncomfortably at the door. “Can you come out?”

“Did you find them?”

“No, not yet. I found a mochi upstairs that appears terrified but healthy.” He didn't mention the monster. He didn't need to cause more panic, not yet.

“Huh,” Germany grunted, and something whirred briefly again. “Can you keep looking?”

Kiku startled. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not... I'm not ready to go out yet,” Germany said. “Please. I lost my whip. I don't have anything else to fight with.”

Kiku started to protest that he had a gun, then recalled the monster's speed and indifference to his sword. A handgun would not be enough; even a whip would be better. That, at least, he could help with.

“I found your whip. It was in another bedroom on this floor. Here, I can pass it to you.” The door gaped at the bottom wide enough to slip it under. Japan pushed it through and straightened. “I'd appreciate your company.”

“I'm still too weak to walk,” Germany said. “Please. I'll join you in a little while. Can you look again?”

“Very well.” Kiku bowed shallowly to the door, wishing Germany could read the unhappiness he refused to inject into his voice. “I'll come back to you soon.”

As he turned to go, Kiku heard the whirr start up again. It sounded disconcertingly like an electric drill. Where on earth had Germany gotten an electric drill from, and why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for chapter


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed best to Kiku to start searching from downstairs and work his way up again. He started in the kitchen and library and then crossed to the other side of the front hallway.

This time when he passed, the frosted glass door was ajar. The room inside was pitch black. Kiku stopped and wondered who had been inside last time if it hadn't been Germany. Prussia and Italy were much too short to cast that tall of a shadow. He wondered about Russia again, but he hadn't seen any sign of the other Nations they'd come to find at all.

Kiku drew his sword and walked up to the doorway. There was a lightswitch just out of reach inside. He stepped in and turned it on. 

Something inside slammed him into the wall, hard enough to break through the plaster. Kiku twisted his sword and stabbed it into his attacker. It let go of him, and the lights went out. Kiku staggered to his feet and fell against the far wall, snapping the light back on. 

The lights illuminated an empty wash room and an empty hallway. Kiku rubbed his arm and winced as he touched blood. His shoulder had been raked open by, upon inspection, a nail in one of the wall studs, and he was bleeding freely. There was a damp towel hung over a stool, but he was hesitant to use it. He pressed his hand over the wound instead, knowing it would stop bleeding soon. 

The room he was in was a bathroom, one with two tubs and no toilets. The floor was wet from recent use, although who in the house had used it last he didn't know. On one of the stools, there was another key. On the bar it read 'bedroom – 1.fl'

There was no other sign of who – or what – he had been fighting with. Kiku turned to leave and froze. The wall he had been slammed through had repaired itself, somehow, with no sign of his blood. Kiku touched his arm reflexively, but it was still tacky with blood and had almost stopped bleeding. He looked at it in disbelief. He should've been healing faster than this. 

Kiku swallowed. A problem he could solve right now was determining which room, exactly, this key would open upstairs. Both rooms he had been in were bedrooms. He would just have to try it in all the doors. There was only four to try.

To be thorough, he tried the keys he had in the door behind the stairs. It didn't work, but he hadn't expected it would. Upstairs, the key opened the door along the front wall to the right. He immediately checked if the door locked behind him. To his relief, he found that it was a more ordinary flip lock. He shut the door and locked it – just in case.

The room appeared empty, with two beds neatly made, dressers along the walls, and three windows. The curtains over the right-hand side bed were shut, the only ones shut in the entire house so far. Kiku walked up to the bed cautiously, one hand hovering over his sheathed sword.

He had reached the end of the bed when the curtains burst open. Prussia leapt out at him with a shout, his sword raised overhead. Kiku jerked back and fell, rolling out of the way. Prussia's sword redirected midswing and bit into the bedframe.

“Fuck Honda, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it was you!” Prussia jerked his long sword free and brought it back to his side. “I just heard the door and thought that thing had come back for me!”

“It did not.” Kiku brushed himself off and stood up. “I found a key that let me into this room. What thing do you mean?”

“The monster! You've run into it, you have your swords on you.” He gestured broadly. “Is that where you got off to?”

Kiku tilted his head. “I went to see what had broken, don't you remember?”

“Wha?” Prussia twitched back a little, uncertain. “I – sure, why not? I guess things just got jumbled when we took off. Some monster rushed us from the back room – which, that fucking wasn't there when I looked! - and I grabbed Ludwig and ran upstairs. It followed us and Ludwig ran for the first door he saw. I yelled at it to get it to follow me and then left it behind and hid in here.”

“Doitsu is fine,” Japan said. 

“Is he okay?” Prussia took a step forward. “Where is he?”

“He got into a room like this and hid in a closet. I can take you back to him, he's been worried about you, too.”

“Of course, he –” Prussia stopped and stared at the door. “Hey, Honda?”

“Yes?”

“Did you lock the door?”

The door handle turned, caught, then turned again. Kiku stared in silence, too scared to breathe.

“I hope that's actually your old sword and not a show piece you retrieved.” Prussia crossed himself as he braced himself to fight. “Maybe you should get it out.”

Kiku drew his sword in response and glanced at Prussia's. His was quite a bit older than Kiku's, if he recognized the sword like he thought. Prussia's longsword had been an antique when he'd shown it to Kiku when they first met over a century ago. They'd sparred then, and that memory was a comfort now.

After it had been silent for a minute, Kiku nodded to Prussia and approached the door. He flipped the lock and retreated, waiting to see if that prompted a response. Prussia walked up and threw open the door. At the threshold, he suddenly ducked and threw himself across the hallway. A grey fist slammed into the floor just outside the door. Kiku immediately attacked, driving his sword into its elbow and forced the arm closed. Prussia, back on his feet, brought his sword down onto the back of the creature's neck. The monster jerked away from the onslaught.

Kiku rushed out the door to join Prussia, wondering what kind of damage they'd done. Prussia grabbed Kiku's left arm and ran back to the stairs. Kiku awkwardly kept up and, at the front entry, directed him towards the library. Once they were inside, he fished out the keys and found the one that would work in order to lock the door behind them.

With that done, Kiku felt all his tention just melt away. He leaned against the wall by the door and watched Prussia stare at the door. A moment later, he started to laugh.

“What is it?” Kiku asked.

“You just went right for the joint the moment it showed up, like that wasn't the creepiest fucking thing I've seen in a long time!”

Kiku flushed at the praise. “It was nothing. I simply did what I felt was best for the situation at hand.”

“I thought you might be slow after how long it's been since you fought anyone for real.”

“It has been just as long for you.”

“I stay sharp.” Prussia ran his finger down the blade of his sword with a troubled look. Kiku did the same on his own, but his sword showed no mark or stain from the battle either.

Kiku sheathed it to unlock the door. “We should go. The room Doitsu is in does not lock.”

Prussia lowered his sword and passed him at a half-run. Kiku kept up behind him, a sensible distance apart given neither of them had sheathed their swords. He didn't want to; he didn't understand why the monster was gone, and he didn't trust it at all. 

At the top of the stairs, Prussia waited for Kiku to indicate the room Germany was in. He stalked into the room and halted.

“What the fuck is a metal door doing here?”

Kiku caught up with him and confirmed it was the same door as before. “It is something Doitsu found. When I first saw him, it was just a cloth door. Perhaps he brought it here from somewhere else like you and I did our swords...?”

“Why would he bother?” Prussia muttered. “He's not that bad with a sword.” 

“I'm not sure he was thinking clearly. He was very upset when I found him.”

Prussia stalked up to the door and pounded on it. “Hey, Ludwig! Get out here where I can see you!”

There was sudden silence as some background noise ended. Footsteps hurried down the stairs and the door swung open. Germany jerked Prussia into an embrace that was happily returned.

“You're okay,” Germany said. “I thought I'd lost you.”

“Yeah, I'm okay, relax.” Prussia wrapped his arms around his back. “You don't have to worry about me, you know that. Me and Venedig are both gonna be fine.”

“We should look for him again,” Kiku said, “and I'd like to see if you can get the mochi upstairs to come out of its hiding place.”

“Of course.” Germany pulled the door shut behind himself, briefly checking under his long coat. “I have everything I need. We can go, I feel much better now that I've rested.”

It very much had not sounded like he'd been resting, but Kiku did not argue. With Prussia and Germany, Kiku led the way to the attic room and moved the bookcase for them to see. The mochi squeaked and tried to retreat further into its hole.

“Why don't you two go check out the other room for a time?” Germany suggested. He crouched by the bookcase. “I think its not comfortable with so many people here.” 

“Of course.”

Prussia laughed. “I should check out more of this place anyways!”

Kiku followed him back across the fourth floor to the other room. Prussia went over to the bookcases and desk Kiku had investigated before. Kiku wandered over to the beds with vague unease. He leaned on the bedspread to see if it was something to do with the beds themselves. The fabric folded under his hands as if it had just been laundered.

There was no dust, just like in the kitchen and on the coffee table. The house was too clean, even for a caretaker's attention. The air was stale, but the bedspread was clean and didn't show any sign of aging.

There was a click and the bed pulled away from his hands. Kiku stumbled forward and there was no ground in front of him. He fell and grabbed at the bed, then for the edge of the hole. He caught it, but his grip failed. He landed hard on the story below, and one leg crumpled beneath him. 

“Shit!” Prussia shouted. “I'm sorry! Honda, are you okay?”

Kiku got back to his hands and knees, his palms stinging. “I'm fine. What did you do?”

“There's a lever in the wall. I found a key the first time I played with it, so I moved it down again and the bed moved. Sorry about that.”

Kiku turned to sit on the floor and looked up at Prussia crouched at the hole. He looked around the room he was in, but it seemed completely benign. “I see. This room seems unremarkable. There's a door out.”

“Great! Do you want me to come – what?” Prussia turned away from the hole, suddenly alert. “Hey Honda, I'll be right back.”

Prussia vanished without another word. Kiku didn't try to call him back; he wouldn't come. He stood up and his knee throbbed when it took his weight. Kiku shifted to favour it. It would heal in an hour or so, assuming nothing else went wrong. His head had stopped aching and his arm had finally scabbed over, so it appeared his healing was merely delayed.

Kiku was closer to the windows than he was to the door. He pulled open the curtains and the darkness outside alarmed him before he realized the late sun had been covered by clouds. It would be a very dark night.

When he looked back at the room, he found everything to be white – the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and the piano in the middle of the room. Even the bookcases were white. Kiku started for the door, unnerved by Prussia's abrupt exit.

A door across the hall shut as he stepped into the hallway. 

Kiku frowned and walked around the stairwell to try the door again himself. It opened under his hand. Had Gilbert come downstairs and picked the lock? The room was filled with low bookcases as tall as his shoulder. Standing by the inside wall was Italy. 

“Itaria!” Kiku called.

Italy gasped and turned around to face him. His face went from shocked to happy and he ran up to him with a smile. “Honda!”

“Hai,” Kiku started, then switched to German for Italy's sake. “Where have you been?”

“I've been looking for you! God, this is such a big house isn't it? I keep getting lost!” Italy shrugged his backpack back onto his shoulders and clenched his hands on the straps. “Where were you? Did you meet up with any of the others yet?”

“We just came upstairs. What happened to you? How did you end up separated from Doitsu and Puroisen?”

Italy ran a hand through his hair with an awkward laugh. “There was this monster that came out of nowhere; it surprised us all so bad! Ludwig and Gilbert ran and I tried to run too, but it was chasing me so I ran down a hallway instead. By the time I could get upstairs, they were both gone! Didn't you hear Ludwig scream?”

“I didn't hear anything.” That didn't feel right. He should've heard something; the kitchen wasn't far enough away.

“Oh! Well.” Italy pulled his backpack around to his front to fish inside. “Are you thirsty? Drink, you look really kind of tired.”

“Thank you.” Kiku accepted the bottle and took a short drink, but handed it back quickly. “We should go upstairs, Doitus and Puroisen will be very relieved to see you.”

“Of course! Let's go!”

Kiku followed him to the far door of the library, surprised by his calm. Then again, he'd never seen Italy handling disasters that were not war. If Prussia felt Italy was behaving odd, Kiku would worry but it appeared Italy had simply run into nothing since his first experience with the monster.

As they went upstairs, Kiku asked. “Have you tried to reach home for anything?”

“Hm?” Italy glanced down at Kiku's sword and shook his head. “No, I haven't. I knew it'd be a long walk here so I brought lots of stuff. If I tried to run with a sword, I'd trip myself! Did you have troubles with it?”

“Yes,” Kiku said. “I'm not sure I can get anything else.”

“Even here in Japan?” 

Kiku had to clear his throat as they came around the corner to the attic room. Italy jogged through the door and halted.

“Feli, get out!” Germany shouted. “You need to go!”

Italy jerked as though struck. “What's that? What's going on!?”

Kiku ran up behind him and drew his sword. The monster was in the room, hunched between them and Germany and Prussia in the corner. Prussia stood in front of Germany, his sword drawn. He had a bruise starting on his neck. Germany had his gun out and aimed, but he didn't look half as confident as Prussia was.

“Honda, take Feli and go!” Prussia shouted.

The monster turned towards them; it hadn't attacked since they came into the room. Seeing it full on, standing still and waiting for something, Kiku thought its shape appeared familiar. It's body was thin and much too small for its head. Its black eyes were huge in its face. Kiku moved to place himself in front of Italy.

“I believe I have gone deaf in my old age,” Kiku said. “I can see you appear to need aid.”

“Y-yes,” Italy agreed. He hummed under his breath and touched Kiku's shoulder. His knee popped and stop hurting. Kiku gave Italy a small nod, then threw himself at the monster. Prussia leapt forward at the same time, trapping the monster between them. They drove it into the front of the room. The creature slashed at Kiku, skidding his feet across the floor on impact, but Prussia cut under its arm as it swung. The creature shrieked and turned on him, only to open itself to Kiku's advance. Their swords left no mark on its skin. 

Germany's gun fired behind them. The monster snarled at the the corner and slapped Prussia into the wall. Germany fired again and the creature vanished.

“I told you you could do it!” Italy said happily. “You got it dead on!”

“Are you both okay?” Germany called.

Kiku turned to smile their way. He averted his eyes immediately after, as Italy was half in Germany's lap. Kiku sheathed his sword to stop his arms from shaking, then stopped and checked to see if there was any residue on the blade at all. He found nothing; not even a scratch on the blade. 

“Not finding anything?” Prussia asked.

“No,” Kiku sheathed his and glanced back at him. “And yours?”

“Not a damn thing.” He sheathed his sword and shook himself. “I thought I heard something and when I got here it was advancing on West. I didn't want you to get involved if it would put Feliciano at risk too.” He blinked and pulled his hand out of his pocket. “Oh, and this is for your little collection!”

Kiku caught the key Prussia gave him. He startled as he saw how simplified the teeth were. He checked the bar but, like the key from the library, it only read '1st.fl.'

“This may open the rest of the doors on the floor you and Ludwig were on,” Kiku said, hoping it was true. “Thank you. How do you feel?”

“I'm exhausted,” Prussia said, grinning from ear to ear. “That was the longest fight I've had in a while.”

“Is Ludwig okay?”

Prussia shoved his hands into the big pocket on his sweatshirt. “He's worried,” he said. “Of course he is. He grew up with gunpowder wars. He's been scared for his boyfriend for a good hour or more. He won't admit it but he's tired, too. It's coming onto night.” 

Kiku glanced out the window and all he could see was his own reflection. “I could use a rest as well,” he agreed. “If we can find a room that locks, we could rest a few hours at least with a change of watch. Itaria will need to rest as well.”

“Huh?”

“He healed me, before the fight. My knee was sprained and my hands injured from the fall.” Kiku brushed a hand over his shoulder and that cut, too, was healed.

“So we all need to rest. I'll let them know. Check the rest of the room for anything useful, would you?”

Kiku searched the room properly while Prussia spoke to Italy and Germany. In the closet opposite the mochi, Kiku found a wooden box that rattled. He tried to get the lid open, but it was locked. He brought it back to the others as Prussia helped Germany to his feet.

“I found this,” Kiku said. “I couldn't get it open.”

“We can try it later tonight,” Italy said. “Lemme hold onto it, I can keep it in my bag.”

Kiku let him take it. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yeah. We'll check out all the rooms and see what one seems most safe.”

Kiku agreed. On the second floor, while many of the rooms had something of interest – matches in one, a first aid kit in another – they chose to sleep in the one with a fireplace and fuel. The house was getting colder now that the sun was down. Prussia closed the blinds as Germany started the fire. Italy sat at the table to dig through the first aid kit they'd found.

Kiku, for his part, took off his shirt and eyed the mess on his sleeve, already able to tell it was going to be a loss. The blood had soaked down his entire arm and transferred in smears and spatters to his stomach and side. He scrubbed the blood off his skin and checked his undershirt to see if that, at least had been spared the bloodstains. Instead he noticed that he'd gotten blood on his grey pants as well and suppressed a sigh.

“Are you alright?” Italy asked. “What's the matter?”

“Ah, I got injured earlier and bled quite badly. It's gotten onto most of my clothing.”

“Oh!” Italy gave him a surprised look, then smiled cautiously. “Give me a second, I think I have a change of clothing in my bag that would fit you? I mean, the pants might be a little long, but...”

“That would be appreciated.” Kiku folded his shirt and put it on the table. Italy hauled out a pair of trousers and a long-sleeved buttondown shirt, not that much different than what Kiku had had on before. Kiku accepted them with relief and quickly changed, glad to be in clothes without bloodstains. He folded his pants and put them on top of his shirt on the table. 

“Feeling better?” Prussia asked. 

“Much.” Kiku smiled back at him and sat down again. Prussia stayed standing. Germany sat to hold Italy against his side. “What should we do once we have rested?”

“We need to get out,” Germany said. “I assume you'd have mentioned if we could get out the front door?”

“Perhaps one of you might be able to pick the lock, but we could be trapped there very easily if we tried.” Kiku said. “And I'm not sure how it got locked. It requires a key to trip the deadbolt, even from inside.”

“Of course the haunted house is English. Why wouldn't it be?” Prussia muttered. “So one of us would have to pick the lock to get out. We can give that a shot at least once.”

Kiku looked at Italy and saw he was studying his hands, leaning heavily into Germany's chest. 

“What about breaking a window?” Germany asked.

“Tried it,” Prussia said. “I can't even get the windows unlatched, much less break them, and then we'd have to bend the bars outside too.”

“Even on the upper floors?”

“Yes,” Kiku said. “Every window I've seen was barred. Also, the walls repair themselves after damage. I'm not sure we could get out without using a door.”

“The walls what?” Prussia yelped. “What happened?”

“My arm was injured when I was thrown through the plaster into an exposed nail.” He swallowed. “When I retrieved something in the room and turned around, it was intact once more. The only sign of what had happened was my injures.”

“What was it in the room?” 

“One of the keys.”

“How many of those do you have?” 

Kiku emptied his pockets and lined up the keys. “Four. One for the downstairs library, from Ludwig. One from the library, for the fourth floor. One from the downstairs bathroom, for the room you were in, Beilschmidt. Lastly, the one you got from the switch upstairs.”

“It's like a puzzle,” Germany said. “Maybe we'll eventually find the right key for the front door?”

“Sure,” Prussia said. Japan looked at his face and saw fear and disbelief. When he noticed Kiku's attention, Prussia grinned. “Who wants to take first watch?” 

“We can choose it by lot. It would be most fair,” Germany suggested.

“Janken, perhaps?” Kiku suggested. “How do you call it in German? It is like Rock Paper Scissors, according to Alfred.”

“I know that game!” Prussia said. “That'd work great.”

“How do I play it?” Italy asked. He looked confused at Germany.

Kiku hoped he had the sense not to take first watch if he won, given how tired he obviously was.

“You throw down your hand in a shape that may or may not beat another shape someone has made,” Germany explained. He demonstrated each as he said it. “Rock beats scissors. Scissors beats paper. Paper beats rock. Do you remember now?”

“Yeah!” Italy held out his hand. “Lets do it!”

Kiku added his hand next to Italy's. He counted down. “One, two, three – go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for chapter


	3. Chapter 3

Gilbert sat facing the door in front of the large table in the room. His sword was resting bared on his knees. He checked his watch, but it was still showing 18:30 hours – the time they'd arrived at the house. It'd been years since he last kept watch like this, and decades since he'd done it without a working time piece, but he trusted his internal clock to tell him when to wake Honda for next watch.

The other Nations were curled up in front of the fireplace, sleeping on the ground. West was spooning Feliciano against his chest. Gilbert felt reasonably certain they'd sleep through the house coming down around their ears - not that he'd let that happen – but they needed the rest.

His hand ached on the handle of his sword. He flexed his fingers and felt the blood sluggishly return to his cold joints. He shivered, and realized he'd been shivering off and on for a while now. He glanced over his shoulder. The fire was still going strong. He got up and had to come within two feet of the fire to feel the heat. It had been going for almost two hours by now; the room had been fine not long ago.

It didn't seem worth it to wake the others over this. He was on watch for another hour; he could keep himself warm. He pushed the chairs out of the way and began to do sword practice in front of the door. It warmed his joints and he felt better as his body remembered the movements. 

Perhaps a half hour later, Gilbert realized he was uncomfortably warm. He lowered his sword and stared. There was light coming in the edges of the windows. He stalked over and pushed the blinds aside. 

The clouds were gone. The sun was up, and near noon.

Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the fire hadn't burned down: the fire they'd lit within an hour of dusk. 

“Feli, Ludwig, get up.” Gilbert said. He walked over and shook them. They didn't respond; Feliciano mumbled in his sleep. He turned to shake Honda, only to get a moan. They were all alive; he just couldn't wake them.

The doorhandle rattled. The air in the room was heavy and warm. He shook his brother again.

“Ludwig!” 

He didn't even move.

Whatever was at the door wasn't leaving. This was wrong. This was all wrong. None of them should still be this asleep; they weren't heavy sleepers. It couldn't have gone from midnight to noon; it wasn't possible. 

Not outside this house, at any rate.

The door rattled harder and something rammed it. 

Gilbert straightened. If the monster got into the room, he'd have a much harder time defending them. He turned and walked straight to the door, checking that it would lock behind him. With that secure, he pulled it open and stepped out into the hallway to face the monster.

IIII 

“I don't understand why you like this idea.”

Alfred laughed and hugged Mattie around the shoulders, tucking his arm under his crossbow where it stuck up over his backpack. “It's gonna be fun Mattie! You don't have to stay for long, you know, just 'til I see what's up.”

“I know, you've told me.” 

Mattie hugged him back and then stepped away again. Alfred jogged a little to catch up with Ivan at the front of their group. The mansion stretched out ahead of them, a tidy building with white walls and peppered with barred windows. It could've been a good horror mansion – it was big enough, certainly – but it was all in good repair.

“This place doesn't feel right,” Arthur said. Alfred looked back at him curiously, and he added “It feels empty.”

“Empty of what?” Alfred turned to walk backward through the gates, wobbling and grabbing Ivan's coat to steady himself. 

“It is abandoned,” Ivan said. “It should be empty. This will be a good visit.”

Alfred laughed and turned around so he didn't have to see Arthur's furious look at Ivan's response. He ran up to the door and went inside, stepping into the entryway with a small grin. The walls inside were a similar off-white to the outside. The entry split into three hallways – left, right, straight ahead – and a staircase. Alfred went down the hallway straight ahead to look around, watching from the corner of his eye as the rest of the group followed him inside – Yao and Mattie, Francis and Arthur, and Ivan, who was watching him again. Mattie and Ivan looked over-dressed in their jackets, but Ivan never went without his and Mattie was going hunting later and it wasn't that warm for late spring yet.

The back room he was in led to a couple of tatami-floored rooms, a dummy set up with old Japanese armour, and a chest with a note on top. The note read 'repair the piano, fix the toilet, put the first aid kit in the dresser on the second floor.' Alfred pocketed it and returned to the front entry. Ivan and Mattie were talking quietly alone, Ivan leaning lightly on his iron pipe.

“Where'd the others go?” Alfred asked.

“They went upstairs,” Mattie said. “I said I'd wait here for you and Russia said he'd wait with me.”

“Thanks!” Alfred went over and gripped his shoulder, in lieu of kissing him in front of Ivan. “Where do you want to go first?” 

“This hallway?” Ivan pointed back over his shoulder and Alfred happily led the way. The first door was locked; the second and last both led to bathrooms that looked unnaturally tidy.

“You can tell nobody lives here, huh?” Alfred joked. “Nobody keeps their bathroom this clean.”

“Prussiya can,” Ivan said. 

“Okay, he's been military his whole life, he doesn't count.” Alfred snorted. “Why's there the sit toilet and then the Japanese style baths? What kind of guy would build a house like this? I mean, this house is older than World War Two, isn't it?”

“I do not know. Why do you think that?” Ivan asked.

Alfred gave him a shy smile. “Construction style. I spent a lot of time here during rebuilding and it was fun helping out. So – the way it's built mixes English stuff and Japanese, but it's older stuff and the boards...” He made a vague gesture, not sure he wanted to explain in more detail. “I like building stuff, okay?”

“I see. That is interesting, yes.”

Alfred slipped past Ivan to where Mattie was staring down the hallway.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don't know. I'm wary because of what Arthur said. He's not happy being in here, and... it's cold all of a sudden.”

Alfred stared down the hallway as well, frowning. “Did you try to see what he meant? I mean, the magic Sight?”

“Not yet.”

Alfred shrugged and took Mattie's hand. “There, better? Let's go look at the other hallway, okay?”

Mattie smiled back at him and squeezed his hand in response. Alfred glanced back at Ivan, but he just smiled calmly back. Alfred slipped his arm under Mattie's backpack again to hug him. “Maybe you're just overheating in your coat since you haven't taken it off?”

Mattie hugged him back before taking his hand again. “We'll be alright as long as it's not a ghost, eh?”

Alfred shuddered. “Don't tease. That'd suck the worst! If it was anything else we could just make Arthur deal with it.” 

Mattie held onto his hand and walked with him up the hallway. Alfred turned to look back over his shoulder and ask Ivan. “I don't know how long we're supposed to hang out down here, do you think we should go meet the others after we've checked it all out?”

He saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned to look. The movement slammed him into the wall, and ripped his hand from Mattie's. 

IIII

Arthur could tell something was very wrong in this mansion. He kept trying to figure it out, but what he could see told him nothing of use. On the first floor, he hung back by the top of the stairs as Yao and Francis spoke. 

“Arthur,” Francis said, in the patient tone that told him this wasn't the first time he'd called his name. “Do you want to stay on this floor or go upstairs first?”

“I'd rather go upstairs,” Arthur sniffed and made a face again. “It's stuffy here.”

“It's not stuffy at all,” Yao said. “I don't know what you mean.”

“I don't care what you think,” Arthur snapped, then forced himself to explain. “It feels dead. Everything in here just feels... stripped. Gone. There's nothing alive in here except for us.” 

“Not even your spirits?” Francis raised his eyebrows at him.

“There's nothing to see but old spellwork on the walls.” It was driving him a little mad; he was used to seeing spirits everywhere in Japan, but apparently not in this home.

“Well, if there's not even spirits here we know it's some kind of haunted.” Francis smiled a little. “I feared we might miss out on the excitement. I'd prefer to stay here and look around first, if you don't mind.”

Arthur smiled bitterly at him. “Of course, but I won't be staying with you.”

“I'd check out that room just down there.” Yao pointed. “I can smell something odd.”

“Do you think so?” Francis sniffed and frowned. “I think I see what you mean.”

Arthur didn't comment. He'd been smelling 'something odd' since he came into the house, a mix of powdered bone, old blood, and the kind of heavy dust that hadn't dared appear in the house itself. It wasn't something Francis or Yao could be smelling; it was a residue from a certain kind of magic. It was a kind of synesthesia from his Sight that would take an intensive cleansing to make it go away.

He wasn't going to be able to smell anything else until he got used to it.

“I'd rather go upstairs,” Arthur repeated. “I don't care if either of you comes with me.”

“We heard you the first time, Opium,” Yao said. “Fàguó, I'd also want to start upstairs and work down. Do you want to stay here regardless, aru?”

“I think it will be more interesting to stay here.” Francis glanced at the room Yao had indicated, then headed towards the back hallway. He kissed Arthur on the cheek as he passed. “I'll meet you here once you're done, oui?”

“Where are you going to start?” Arthur hugged him around the waist, loathe to leave him alone in the house.

“Chine said that room smelled odd. I thought I would leave it for last in that case. Go on, mon anglais, I'll be here when you get back.” He untangled himself from his arm and disappeared inside an unlocked door. 

Arthur ground his teeth, but China was already climbing to the next floor. 

“Fàguó will be fine,” Yao said at the top of the stairs. He tried the door immediately to the right of the staircase and walked in. Arthur followed him in and looked around. It was a library of short bookcases, marinating in the empty air. The walls above the books were covered in shifting signs that left him silent and uneasy.

They exited the library at the far end. Yao slipped into the room on the far wall as they passed. Arthur started to follow him and halted just inside the door. 

“What is it?” Yao asked.

“I...” Arthur didn't know where to start; his eyes started to water. There was something built in the room, a magic structure so bright it blotted out the physical reality beneath it. The smell was so strong he choked on it, and had the flavour of lightning. 

He had a room like it at home, but he wasn't prepared for this one. He braced himself on the wall and hadn't come close to finishing when Yao pushed him out the doorway again. Arthur closed his eyes and leaned on the wall, relieved to see the stairwell, its banister, and the sunlight disappearing beneath the front windows. 

“You looked ridiculous, Yīngguó,” Yao said. “You'd think you'd never seen a piano before.”

Arthur bared his teeth. “I never thought I'd be jealous of someone without the Sight.”

Yao scoffed and didn't respond. Arthur didn't care; he was trying to place the piano in what he'd seen. It would've been easier had he any idea of where in the room it was. It would make the most sense for it to be in the centre, but what, then, had been anchored to it?

On the top floor, the smell of dust and bone was fading; the smell of old blood was just as strong as before. The first room was just a bedroom with a lever in the wall; the second, an attic sitting room. Yao looked around like an excited child until he came to a bookcase on the back wall.

“Opium, you were wrong,” he said. “There is something alive in here. It's a mochi!”

Arthur made a skeptical noise, but he came up behind Yao and found he was right. There was a living rice ball – or what looked like one – pressed into a hole in the wall that was very definitely alive. “So it is.”

“It's cute!” Yao crouched to pet it. Arthur rolled his eyes and walked away to study the rest of the room. There was a dark red chair positioned at the head of the room facing the front wall. It looked familiar, but his eyes weren't focusing well enough to pick out why.

A gun fired downstairs, multiple times in quick succession. Arthur's breath caught in his throat.

“What was that?” Yao yelped. 

“Alfred's gun,” Arthur snapped. “We need to go.”

“Měiguó? Surely not! He's down there with Èluósï, surely they're just antagonizing each other again!”

Arthur exhaled sharply. Of course that was true; Russia enjoyed riling Alfred up. It didn't mean anything. If it was nothing, Arthur was going to beat him for scaring him like that. “We should still go downstairs.”

“Of course.” 

Yao started out the door and Arthur followed, passing him in the hallway to get downstairs to the first floor to meet Francis. Of course, he was nowhere in sight. Arthur looked up and down both hallways, but there was no sign of him.

“It's been at least ten minutes, hasn't it?” Arthur asked.

“It has,” Yao agreed. “Stay here, I'll look for him. We don't need to lose you as well.”

“Of course.” Arthur crossed his arms and waited, cross at everyone and knowing it was unreasonable. Well, mostly unreasonable. Francis and Alfred knew better than this.

Yao came back from the hallway to his left with a bundle of charred clothing. Arthur had adapted to the house enough to smell for himself that they were soaked in blood. 

“Yīngguó, these are Honda's clothes!”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. They were the right colour and make to match what Kiku had worn to the G20 meeting that morning, but... “Yao, there's no way he can be here. You texted him when we arrived less than a half hour ago and he is three hours away unless he lied about having never been here before.”

“Yes, but...” Yao clutched the clothes tighter and Arthur tried not to inhale too much. There was a lot of blood; mixed with the smoke and the house, the smell was deeply alarming. “I haven't heard anything from him since we entered the mansion, Kirkland.”

“Is your phone even working?” Arthur asked, a nasty suspicion on his mind.

Yao tucked the clothes under one arm and fished his cell phone out. He shook it and scowled, then put it back. “No. No reception. But can you explain this? Maybe he changed his mind.”

Arthur gave him a patronizing look. “Very little changes Honda's mind, Yao. We need to find Alfred and Francis, who we know are here.”

“You're right, I'm sorry.” Yao folded the clothes more with shaking hands, uncaring it seemed for the blood coming off on his own clothes. “We can go.”

Arthur turned and went downstairs without another word. He looked around the front entry, but there was no sign of Alfred, Mattie, or Russia. He clenched his hands. 

“We can go to the left first,” Yao suggested. “Start at the far end and come back?”

It made as much sense as anything did in this house. Arthur started towards the door at the far end. He grew more and more tense as he got closer, his chest tight. Alfred was going to pay for this.

When he crossed the threshold, his vision suddenly swam with lights. Yao walked into him, then pushed past. He stopped in front of him and reached through space. Arthur's vision cleared in time to see Yao drop his sword and grab his hand.

“AI-YAH that hurt!”

“Da,” Russia said. “It does sting some.”

Arthur was not about to test it; he'd seen the house's spells snap shut on Yao's hand when he tried. The cause of his vision problems stood before Russia, a grey-skinned monster with a bulbous head. It had pinned Russia and Matthew in the shallow cul-de-sac of the kitchen, and had warped the stagnant energy of the house around itself.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

“I do not know. I was handling with it when you arrived,” Russia said. He dropped a bent pipe and pulled his own off his belt again. “Please excuse me.” 

Matthew, behind him, had his crossbow loaded and aimed, but appeared in no hurry to fire it. The monster had one bolt buried in its skull near one eye that did not seem to inconvenience it at all.

Yao picked up his sword and drew it in his left hand, his right still shaking. Russia drew a sword from his pipe, the bend proving to be its hilt, and attacked. Arthur winced as the monster screamed and lashed out, throwing Russia to the ground at Mattie's feet. Mattie bent and brushed a hand over his shoulder, healing the cut before it even really began to bleed.

While the monster recovered from attacking Russia, Yao swiftly attacked as well. Arthur pulled his grimoire from his bag, the words for the binding spell on the edge of his mind. He flipped the book open and reached out –

The house reached back into his energy. 

Arthur closed himself off so quickly he staggered in place, his head spinning. He lost track of what was going on around him until Yao landed nearby with a curse, his arm bruised and bleeding. Russia himself was braced against Matthew again, who fired his crossbow into the monster's eye. The creature snarled and pulled the bolt out, its eye healing without a mark.

“Are you completely useless?” Yao snapped. He stood up and changed sword hands, from left to right. “Why aren't you doing anything?”

“I can't,” Arthur snapped. “There's nothing here to work with!”

“That's never stopped you before.”

“I don't see you volunteering your help,” Arthur growled. He pulled his wand free from his bag and tried to think of what he could cast without needing extra energy. Nothing was strong enough for the presence he felt from the monster. 

Suddenly it turned to stare back into him. It shifted his way and lunged. Arthur shouted, trying to start the containment spell. The house reached into him to rip him dry, and he reflexively closed his shields. He had to block it out, but he was going to die before he could. 

He didn't. The monster skidded to a halt and screamed. Arthur looked up and saw Kiku standing over him, his sword held between him and the monster.

“I'm sorry I'm so late,” Kiku said. “I didn't realize you were here or I'd have been looking for you sooner. Please excuse me while I deal with this.”

Arthur couldn't reply, his heart thundering in his chest. Kiku rushed the monster, faster than Arthur had seen him move in a long time, forcing it step by step into the far corner. Finally, the monster shrieked and disappeared. Kiku halted, breathing hard. When the monster didn't come back, he relaxed and sheathed his sword, calm once more. He turned to face them, his expression politely confused.

“Are you all alright? You must be used to this by now, you've been here longer than I have.”

Arthur took a deep breath, then another and realized the air felt better now that the monster was gone. He got to his feet and returned his grimoire to his bag, distracted by his own shielding.

“We haven't even been here an hour!” Yao said. “How did you get here, Honda? You were still at the meeting house when I texted you that we'd arrived and you said you didn't intend to come!”

Kiku stared at them and looked to Russia and Matthew for confirmation. Russia nodded. Kiku sighed, his face politely alarmed. “I think we need to speak with Doitsu and Itaria to clear up these things. I know of a room we can take refuge in for now. Please come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for chapter


	4. Chapter 4

Kiku returned to the room where he'd left Italy and Germany on the second floor. He knocked on the metal door. “Doitsu, Itaria! I found Igirisu, Roshia and Chugoku. We need to speak with them.” 

“One moment,” Germany replied. 

Kiku heard him softly calling his boyfriend's name, in the tones used to take someone up. Kiku sighed. Italy had been awake and searching the room in mute panic when Kiku had woken, terrified at Prussia's disappearance. He wasn't sure how much sleep Italy had gotten. It alarmed him to have slept past noon with no memory that Prussia had even tried waking him to change the watch.

After another minute, Germany opened the door and came out, Italy on his arm. Kiku smiled to reassure them. “Is that all you needed here, Doitsu?”

“Yes.” Germany shut the door thoughtfully. “I hope we don't need to come back, but I feel much better for it.”

It was as much as he'd said before when he asked to stay there while Kiku searched for his brother. “Let's go.”

He led them back to the room in which they'd spent the night. Inside, Arthur, Russia, China, and Canada were seated at the table, Canada healing the cuts on China's arm.

“We're here,” Kiku said. “Thank you for waiting.”

Russia looked up from the fireplace. “This room is very nice, Yaponiya.”

“Thank you.” Kiku said. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yes,” Canada said softly. “That's all.”

“Do you mind if we burn the box, Kiku?” Germany asked. “Feliciano wants to start another fire and we have nothing else for fuel.”

“That would be fine,” Kiku said. “The box we found upstairs you mean? Shouldn't he check inside first?”

“He doesn't think it's a good idea.”

Kiku sighed and wished he'd calm down enough to speak, but he knew it was not that simple. “Alright then.” He sat down at the table and addressed the rest of the Nations. “Can you tell me what's happened since you arrived?”

“We came to the mansion, as I said, less than an hour ago,” China began. “When we got here, Fàguó, Opium and I went upstairs as the others stayed downstairs –”

“Amerika and Kanada and I,” Ivan said.

“Yes,” China agreed. “We went upstairs. Fàguó stayed on the first floor and I went the rest of the way upstairs.”

“When we got to the top floor, we heard America fire his gun and came back down,” Arthur cut in. “We didn't find France again and when we found Russia in the kitchen he was fighting the monster. That's when we ran into you.”

“I found this here in this room!” China tossed a bundle he'd been carrying onto the table. It unfolded to show it was Kiku's clothes from earlier, soaked in blood and charred. “How did your clothes get in here and why is there so much blood, Honda?”

“...those aren't...” Kiku glanced at China and smiled politely. “That isn't all blood. Some is just tomato juice.”

“Tomato?” China's face was not the only one staring at him in disbelief. “How do you have tomato in here?”

“Itaria was – upset this morning. We argued about what to do – Puroisen came with us and disappeared. Itaria had brought the tomatoes in his backpack and threw them at me. The smell bothered me, so I changed clothes and left those on the floor. I do not know how they got into the fireplace.”

It wasn't all a lie; that had been the argument, and things had been thrown and he'd used his blood-stained clothes to clean up, but it really had only been tomato. He had no idea where the fresh blood had come from, or how it had wound up in the fireplace. He had no answers, and didn't want to go over it again.

“We arrived here yesterday,” Kiku continued. “As far as my memories tell me. I came with Itaria, Doitsu and Puroisen after Itaria saw your text, Yao. We came here and got separated much like you did, regrouped and then came in here to spend the night.”

“The night?” Arthur stared. “How could you have spent the night?”

“We do not know, but when we arrived here it was an hour before dusk and when we woke up it was noon and, as you say, you had just arrived and Puroisen was gone.”

“Gone?” China asked. “Gone how?”

Kiku sighed again. “We do not know.”

“So there's three people missing,” Arthur said. “France, America, and Prussia.”

“So it would seem.”

“How many times have you run into the monster?” Arthur asked.

“I've faced it twice, I believe.” Kiku said.

“Three,” Italy corrected him.

Kiku looked his way, relieved he was feeling better and nodded. “You are correct, this would make three.”

“Does it look familiar to you?” Arthur asked. “Like you've seen something like it before?”

“It could be.” 

Arthur tapped his hand on the table pointedly. “Like America's friend, that – what's his name.”

“Tony?” Russia asked.

“Yes, Tony.” Arthur glared around the table. “It was America's idea that we come here; if this is some friend of his, I don't think it's a very good joke.”

“It's not Tony.”

Kiku startled and stared at the seat beside China, realizing he'd forgotten Canada was there.

“Are you certain of that? Did he tell you?” Arthur demanded. 

“He didn't have to tell me,” Canada countered. “I've met Tony more than you have, Arthur. This is not him, and it's nothing like him.”

“Da,” Russia agreed. “It is perhaps like Tony, but it is not him or anyone he knows. Tony would not hurt Amerika.”

“Is Amerika okay?” Kiku asked.

Russia shrugged. “He usually survives such things.”

Canada clasped his hands on the table. “We were attacked in the front entry. The monster targeted him and threw him into the wall. He got it off him and opened fire, yelling at us to get away. We weren't ready. I'm sorry I was so much trouble, Ivan.”

“It was nothing! You healed it, so it is okay now. It is good we work together, like allies, da?”

Kiku looked away at Germany and Italy by the fireplace. Italy moved off Germany's chest to pull a knife and poke at the box burning in the fireplace. The lid tumbled off at his touch.

“I think there's something in the box,” Italy called. 

Arthur pushed back his seat to look. “What is it?”

“Let me see.” Italy tipped the box over, then dropped his knife with a yelp. “Ow, that's hot!”

“Don't hurt yourself,” Germany warned.

“I'm not.” Italy picked up the knife again and scraped the inside of the box. A key fell out. Italy tried to pick it up and yelped. “It's a key!”

“What is it for?” Kiku asked.

Italy used his knife to flip the key over on the floor. “Hallway... Ground floor, I think?”

“That would be the door behind the staircase,” Germany said. “That's the only locked door left, isn't it?”

“There's two,” Italy said, “but the other one's off a hallway, I can't imagine it would lead to another one!”

“Many of these doors automatically lock behind you,” Kiku said. “Our friends could be behind any we haven't gotten into yet. If they're in the hallway...”

The door handle rattled, then slammed into the frame. Kiku stopped talking, swallowing as the air went dry. 

China huddled at the table. “Why is it so cold?” he complained.

“It's found us,” Japan said. “Someone needs to distract it so we can get out. Who can still fight?”

“I owe it for the last fight,” Russia said. “I would be happy to face it again.”

“I will,” China said.

Japan nodded. “I will stay as well. Doitsu, Itaria, will you see where that key leads us?”

Italy snatched it up and stood. Germany checked under his coat again and took Italy's hand.

“I need to take another look at something on the second floor,” Arthur said. “Canada and I can go, and we can meet there after. It might be important.”

“What room?” Kiku asked.

Arthur glanced at China, then answered, “The one with the piano.”

“I see,” Japan nodded. “If we are all in agreement, let us meet there after we finish what we have set out to do.”

The door cracked. Japan turned and drew his sword as the monster smashed the door open and charged inside. He stepped aside and cut its leg out from under it as it passed him, sending it crashing into the table. Germany and Italy fled into the hallway, and Kiku turned to place his back to the door beside China and Russia, trapping the monster inside the room.

The monster straightened from the table slowly, keeping its distance as it looked at them and the door behind them. Kiku stared back, uncomfortable. Was it thinking? How much reason did it have?

What did it want?

“It has been a long time since we fought,” Russia said. “It brings back memories.”

“Perhaps for you,” China said. “It's nice to be against a common enemy, aru.”

“Yes,” Kiku agreed. “It is much nicer this way.”

“I should visit you under better circumstance,” Russia added. “I had looked forward to this visit.”

“You would be welcome to stay at my home after this,” Kiku said. “Both of you.”

“I might like to stay on good terms, yes.” China said. “When we have dealt with this.”

“Yes. Do you have a plan?”

“Hold this,” China held out his sword. Kiku accepted it, confused. China rushed the creature barehanded. He jumped over the monster's arms and his hands and feet snapped across the monster's torso and face. He kicked off it and landed back near their line, seizing his sword with a flourish. The monster staggered in place.

Russia made a pleased noise and ran forward. Kiku mirrored him, his sword out, to flank the monster and keep it in place. The monster slashed at Russia and missed, then turned on Kiku instead, sickeningly fast. Kiku could not dodge. What looked like an offhand blow threw him into the wall a couple metres away, and Kiku collapsed to his knees. 

“Honda!” China yelped. 

Kiku tried to call back, to assure him he was fine, but he couldn't get enough air. He could see fine, and watched Russia block the next blow with his sword sheath. His feet skidded across the floor. China forced the monster off Russia as Kiku got his breath back, and his feet under him. He joined the attack and, at the touch of his sword, the monster opened its mouth and vanished. 

Kiku backed up and lowered himself into a chair, his body still aching from the fall. He glanced at the wall and the dent where he'd landed was still there for the time being. It was reassuring to see the source of his pains.

“Are you alright?” China asked. “I'm sorry I didn't help, I thought you would be okay.”

“I'm fine,” Kiku protested. “It was not your fault, please don't apologize. It's not needed.”

“I'm not doing it to be nice,” China snapped. 

“Do you think we defeated it, or did it just escape?” Russia asked.

“I do not know,” Kiku said. “I don't understand how or why it vanishes like it does yet. It does not seem to come back quickly after such a fight. We are as safe as we can expect to be here.”

“I see.” Russia nodded and turned away, a distracted look on his face.

“Did it draw blood at all?” China asked.

“It did not. I am fine, I promise. I just need to catch my breath; the blow only stunned me.”

“I do not trust you to tell me the truth!” China snapped. “If you think I will mistake blood for tomato –” 

Glass shattered on metal in the corner. Kiku jumped to his feet and saw Russia staring at something in his hand.

“I am sorry.” Russia looked up and smiled. “I found this clock and it was very loud. It bothered me, so I broke it.”

“Very well, Èluósī,” China said. “Don't interrupt me like that, aru.”

“Of course, Kitay,” Russia replied. “I'm very sorry.”

Kiku rubbed at his forehead unhappily. The room felt a little clearer now, but he had a headache. “How long has it been?” he asked. “My watch is stuck on 18:30 hours, when we arrived last night.”

China checked his watch. “Mine says it is 13:20 hours.”

“Mine also says 13:20,” Russia said. “We haven't been here more than fifteen minutes since the others left, da?”

Japan checked his watch, considering if resetting it might work, and froze. “My watch is reading 13:20 as well.”

“Perhaps it is because I broke the clock?” Russia suggested.

“I don't know.” Japan pulled out his cellphone, just in case, and confirmed that he still had no service. The time, at least, had corrected itself. “I don't believe this is enough information to know for sure. We should meet up with Igirisu so they are not waiting on us to begin looking for Furansu and Amerika.”

“Can we look in another room along the way?” Russia asked. “I think I might know where there is another clock we should break. It will not take long, da?”

Kiku glanced at China. The other Nation nodded.

“Very well,” Kiku said.

As he stood up, Russia's phone rang. China and Kiku stared as Russia pulled it out and stared.

“How is it working?” Kiku asked.

“I do not have service,” Russia said. He answered the call and put it on speakerphone. It was silent, then played a piano note and hung up. Russia eyed his phone. “It was not a known number.”

“It was just a piano note.” Kiku fought down disappointment.

“We're going to the piano room shortly,” China pointed out. “Perhaps it will help Opium figure out what was bothering him.”

“I hope so,” Kiku said. “We hardly know anything at all.”

IIII

Ludwig held Feliciano's hand tightly, keeping him moving forward while he constantly looked over his shoulder. Ludwig slowed down to be beside him as they went down the stairs. At the bottom, Feliciano finally relaxed, although one hand hovered by a knife. 

“It's not behind us,” Ludwig said. 

“I know that.” 

Feliciano smiled at him and unlocked the hallway door. He walked in and Ludwig checked for the automatic lock Japan had mentioned before he went fully inside. Feliciano walked onto the tatami floor towards the sliding doors. He had a knife bare in one hand. Ludwig started to follow him when a sliding door slammed open and the grey-skinned monster lunged at them.

“FELI!” 

Feliciano turned on his heels and grabbed Ludwig's arm. He dragged him to the door and burst out into the hallway. At the hallway intersection, Feliciano veered to the right. Ludwig followed him without question. They reached the door at the end of the hall and Feliciano dragged him inside and slammed it shut. Ludwig grabbed the handle to flip the lock on his second try.

“We're safe,” Feliciano said. “It can't get in here.”

Ludwig simply nodded, his body not ready to believe him yet. He dropped the lid on the toilet to sit on the edge. 

Something jabbed him in the back and he came to his feet with a curse. He pulled his gun and turned. Something small and leggy stood on the lid of the toilet with its hands on its hips, glaring up at him.

“No sitting! Not unless you pay! That isn't what this is for, go outside to do it! This is my place of business!”

Ludwig stared. “Your... place of business?”

Feliciano began to giggle uncontrollably. “It's – I think it wants to sell you something, tesoro.”

“What does it have to sell here?” 

Feliciano leaned on the sink, still giggling in that nervous grating manner. “I don't know. What do you have?” he asked.

The small creature disappeared and reappeared with a pop. It deposited a bottle of beer and a sealed package of some kind of rice treat on the tank of the toilet. “Both for 800 yen!”

“Are you thirsty, Ludwig?” Feliciano asked. “Or hungry?”

“...not right now,” Ludwig said. He didn't think he'd ever be hungry enough to buy something from a vendor that sold from a toilet. “We have to meet the others soon.”

“Hah. Fine.” The vendor disappeared, along with his offerings.

Ludwig backed up to hug Feliciano to his chest. “We should get going. Do you think it's still waiting for us to come out?”

“Probably not,” Feliciano sighed.

“How did you know this place would be safe?”

“I guessed!” Feliciano smiled up at him. “It's much too small in here for it to do anything, see? He keeps getting bigger, did you notice? Eventually he won't be able to get through the doors at all!” He pushed open the door and pulled Ludwig out behind him by the hand.

Ludwig didn't think Feliciano's optimism was realistic, but it was good to know at least about the bathroom. It didn't make sense that it could get through any doorway like it did, but not having room to move in the bathroom appeared to be sound logic.

He also couldn't help but picture the vendor ranting about it invading its space and that was worth at least a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol mention  
> No other warnings for this chapter
> 
> Other notes:  
> The Nations are using 24 hour time, which, if you're unfamiliar with it, is a method in which midnight is 00:00 and 11:00 PM is 23:00 - eliminating confusion about "Is it AM or PM?" It's commonly used in Europe, international matters, militaries or airports where that confusion can cause very large problems.
> 
> "Tesoro" means "treasure" in Italian.


	5. Chapter 5

When they reached the front entry again, Feliciano pulled back on Ludwig's arm.

“Can we look down the other hallway first? Please?”

“What do you want to see?” Ludwig asked. They didn't really have time for it.

“I don't want to go back in the hall yet. It might not be gone.” Feliciano smiled more brightly at him again. “I haven't really looked in the kitchen before, maybe Honda missed something in there?”

Japan hadn't really been looking for things like keys before, had he? Ludwig nodded in agreement and followed him to the kitchen, certain he could keep it quick. In the kitchen, there was another door in the back wall that lead to a pantry. Feliciano didn't search the empty boxes and things. He went to the top right corner and moved a small shelf to expose a safe with a triumphant noise. 

“How did you know that was there?” Ludwig protested.

“Oh, safe's are always in a place like this!” Feliciano answered.

Ludwig started to protest, then stopped. This was not the time to complain about his skill set. Feliciano shot him a bright smile and straightened to place a kiss on his mouth.

“Thank you for not objecting.”

“In this case, it is useful that you know how to find a safe. Can you break into it?”

“I can, but I'd rather wait to do it in case it's cursed. We can get Inghilterra to look at it first.”

“Should we go back to the hallway now?”

“Oh, yes! I'm sorry I got distracted.” Feliciano took hold of his hand again and Ludwig squeezed his hand back, feeling calmer now that Feliciano was relaxed. 

They went back to the hallway and cautiously approached the closets on the far side of the tatami mats. The closet the monster has burst from was still open, and Ludwig cautiously looked inside. There was a paper on the floor in the first, and nothing in the second closet. Ludwig turned the paper over to Feliciano once he was done checking them both.

“What do you think this is?”

“It looks like coloured pasta shapes?” Feliciano said.

Ludwig held his hand out to take it back and glanced it over. It was two rectangles drawn in coloured marker. He raised an eyebrow back at Feliciano, but his lover wasn't looking at him. Ludwig studied the paper again, confused to find it was crisp and white with very sharp edges except for a tear down the long side. This wasn't paper that had been handled much. It also had the texture and weight of modern printer paper.

“I think Japan found a paper like this before,” Ludwig said. “We should get him to compare them.”

“Mkay,” Feliciano leaned into his chest and hugged him tightly around the waist. Ludwig wrapped an arm around his back, eyeing the paper another time before he put it into his coat pocket.

Feliciano's phone rang and he shrieked and dug his nails into his back. Ludwig gasped, but Feliciano just stepped back with a worried noise to pull it out and answer it, the phone held far enough away from his head Ludwig could hear the other end.

A single piano note played, and then the line went dead.

“What was that?” Ludwig asked. 

“I don't know,” Feliciano eyed his phone display. “I still don't have reception. I don't know who could be calling me. It doesn't say whose number it was.”

Ludwig sighed. “This place doesn't make any sense,” he said. “We left the monster behind with Japan and the others and somehow it got down here to surprise us, and there's other things in here that make no sense, and then someone is leaving us clues but we don't know why.”

“Yes,” Feliciano put his phone away and leaned up to kiss Ludwig gently on the mouth for a moment. “We should go upstairs to meet Inghilterra, he'll be waiting.”

Ludwig sighed, not looking forward to it. He greatly hoped England had figured out what was bothering him by the time they arrived.

IIII

It was a very short run upstairs after they escaped the room. Mathieu stayed a few steps behind Arthur up to the next floor, his bowie knife in one hand although he really did not want to have to use it. On the next floor, Arthur walked into the room to the left like he was braced for a storm. Mathieu followed him inside and felt no urge at all to try and see the magic in the room. He walked to the piano in the middle to put as much distance between himself and Arthur as he could.

It hardly looked like a room that would have Arthur walking like he was in a daze, although Mathieu could tell that it was set up in a way that would be conducive to the kind of magic Arthur worked. The walls and floor and ceiling were all uniformly white; so was the piano and the bookcases and many of the books. Mathieu leaned on the piano and crossed his arms, the hair on his arms prickling under his coat. 

He didn't ask if it was magic or not. He could guess, and Arthur probably wouldn't even hear him if he did speak up. Arthur would tell him when he was ready whether Mathieu asked or not. 

Mathieu glanced back and noticed there was colour of some kind on the piano keys. He walked around to the seat and slid onto it, studying them curiously. They were drawn in smeared marker across an octave. Four of the keys had black smears underneath, but they were too worn to make out. 

He hadn't seen anything in the house that would need numbers. Numbers were for codes, usually electronic now but this house was much too old for that. Some kind of padlock then, or safe. He ran his fingers over the keys and pressed down a few.

Arthur gasped and cursed loudly. “What the Hell are you doing!?”

“Playing piano,” Mathieu said, playing a small tune. “You brought me with you,” he added, before he could ask. “I've been here the whole time.”

“Get off the piano now,” Arthur snapped. “You're making a racket. I'm going to see the library on this floor, don't follow me.”

Mathieu watched him go as the notes trailed off. He got up and walked around the piano, aggravated and annoyed. Of course Arthur forgot he brought him along. He always disappeared around Arthur. He hated that he'd come with him, but who else would have come? Russia, China, and Japan had the only swords, and Italy and Germany wouldn't dream of being separated.

It nagged at him that he'd let Arthur leave without him. They needed to keep an eye on each other if they wanted to get out alive, but that would've required following him and arguing with him. He avoided Arthur on a good day; he didn't want to deal with him more than required.

He heard the door open and footsteps enter the room. Mathieu sighed and spoke up.

“Arthur, you shouldn't go places without me right now. Please let me come with you next...” He raised his head and froze.

The monster was standing just inside the door looking around the room. It walked over to the piano bench and brushed its hand over the keys where Mathieu had just been playing. It walked around the piano and passed within a foot of his shoulder, close enough Mathieu could've reached out and touched it. It stared at the bookcases where Arthur had been standing, following his path backwards towards the door.

It moved smoothly, without any imbalance from its bizarre build. Mathieu could hear its footsteps, but it didn't appear to need to breathe. It came back along Arthur's path, to within Mathieu's reach. He flinched and held his breath. It couldn't see him, that much was obvious; it didn't appear to be able to sense him, either. He didn't dare reach for his crossbow; the movement would be too large. If it attacked him, he'd only have his bowie knife – assuming he could draw it fast enough – and he really hoped it didn't come to that. 

The monster walked directly in front of him to stand by the piano. Mathieu could've put his knife through its spine if he wanted to, certain he could get the mark he wanted. If it was a living thing, he could kill it in one blow – he'd done it before – but everything pointed to the fact that this thing was not alive. 

He didn't know how to kill it, so he stood and watched it walk out of the room. Mathieu exhaled loudly as it left, leaning on the piano and gulping air into his lungs as the room cleared. He began to feel almost light-headed as the tension fled his body.

“Matthew?” Arthur called. “What's wrong? This room feels nauseous all of a sudden.” 

He came through the door and Mathieu cursed and drew his knife, expecting the monster to come in behind him. It didn't, and Arthur made an angry noise from the doorway. 

“Talk to me. I can't see in here.”

“It's okay,” Mathieu said. “You didn't... didn't see it. It's not there, that's all that matters.”

“What's not there?”

“The monster was in here.” Mathieu sheathed his knife and walked closer to Arthur. “It didn't see me, but it could tell where you'd been and where I touched the piano.”

“Of course it knew,” Arthur growled. “It left?”

“Yeah, it did.” Mathieu sighed and hugged himself, wishing Kumajirou was with him. It was stupid to want it – Kumajirou would be in even more danger than he was himself – but he still would've appreciated the solidity of his bear. Kumajirou, however, was in his cabin in the far North, enjoying the breaking ice and melting snow while he attended a meeting that was supposed to be short and uneventful.

“That's good,” Arthur said. “I think I know what this room is and why it bothers me.”

“Are you going to share once everyone catches up with us?” Mathieu asked.

“Yes, I am. We just have to wait. Don't touch the piano again.”

Mathieu gave him a cross look, but didn't argue. He'd already seen why that was a bad idea. He went to stand by the window instead. He kept one hand on his knife, running his fingers over the outline over and over again until the others arrived.

IIII

Kiku led the way into the piano room with Russia and China at his back. He was very cross with how long Russia's errands had taken and, as he saw upon entering, they'd taken longer to get back than Germany and Italy. Arthur looked up from the bookcase.

“Finally. What took you so long?”

“Roshia can tell you,” Kiku said. “I'd rather hear what Doitsu and Itaria found before we get into it. Was it the hallway you thought it was?”

“It was,” Germany said. “We were ambushed by the monster when we got inside. We left and came back and found this in the closet. We also found a safe in the pantry off the kitchen.”

“There was another door in there as well, but it was locked,” Italy added. 

Kiku accepted the paper from Germany and nodded immediately. “This matches the paper I found perfectly, yes, but I still don't know what it would be for.” 

“We can figure that out later,” Arthur snapped. “I want to know what you were doing.”

“You are incredibly impatient, Opium,” China said. “What has you this worked up, aru?”

“I told you this house is strange,” Arthur snapped. “I need to know more about it. This room is a kind of hub for the spells keeping us in here, and seeing as things changed while I was here to see I need to know if it was something you did or something else.”

“If it's a hub for the spells, can you break them here?” Germany asked quickly.

Arthur shot him a disdainful look. “This is a place they're crossing over and sharing power, not one where they originate here. If I tear it apart, the spells might just snap back into place, or they might explode and tear the house apart with us inside. Neither will get us out.”

There was a long silence.

“Roshia found a pocket watch in the room where we spent the night,” Kiku explained. “He broke it and our watches synchronized to what seems likely to be the proper time again. He then got a phone call from a restricted number even though he had no reception. The phone call was just a musical note. He suggested we find other watches like it and we looked for them on the second floor before we came here.”

“You found another three, then?” Arthur said. Kiku nodded. “What about the phone call?”

“I got one,” Italy said. “It scared me so bad! It was a restricted number when I had no reception and it just played the note La.”

“It played Sol in my call,” Russia said.

“Rubbish,” Arthur muttered. His phone started to play a song, one Kiku was surprised to recognize, and Arthur quickly answered it. He glared at everyone else while he listened, then hung up. “B – Re. We still don't know what this is for.”

Canada tapped Kiku on the shoulder. “May I see the papers?” 

Kiku handed them over and raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “We do not have any other clues that might help us find Furansu and Amerika.”

“Honda,” China said. His tone was wary.

“Why are we looking for Francis?” Arthur said. “Only America's gone missing.”

“When did you fight with Fàguó?” China asked. “This is a poor time to play with him.”

“Francis didn't even come. Don't try to guilt me about him!”

“Why are we fighting about this?” Canada asked, but nobody else reacted to him.

“Who do you think is missing?” Kiku asked him beneath the rising argument between Arthur and China. 

“Alfred and Prussia and François.” Canada said promptly. “I'm almost certain.”

“I see.” Kiku nodded. China and Arthur were being ignored, as much as anyone could ignore them hissing and cursing at each other in the middle of the room. Kiku slipped around them to talk to Germany.

“Doitsu, who do you remember coming here with you?”

“Yourself and Italien and Preußen,” Germany said immediately. “And England came with Amerika, Russia, China, and Frankreich.”

“Not Kanada?”

“...yes, with Kanada.” Germany blushed a little. “I remember now.”

“Alfred's here?” Italy asked. He was shaking. “I thought he hadn't come yet.”

“No, he's come.” Germany put an arm around his shoulders. “Is everyone affected by this?”

“I'm not sure,” Kiku said. He saw Russia was staring away from the group, his head tilted curiously. “What is it, Roshia?”

“That corner is where we found the other four clocks,” Russia explained. “If you remember that and our fight.”

“My memory is not that bad.” Kiku glared at him and went over to the dresser in the corner. He pulled open the top drawer and there was a pocket watch there as well, running too fast and ticking loudly. The clocks were clearly part of this problem. Kiku shattered it on the corner of the dresser.

He put it down on the dresser, broken, and the feel of it in his hand faded. The sight in front of his eyes changed, and he saw the front of the mansion again. Beside him was Arthur, who was making an irate noise as America ran up to the front door to dart inside. Kiku felt relief – yes, this was what he remembered happening – but the memory began to fade.

“This is where they said they were going, right?” Prussia asked from beside him.

“So Itaria said,” Kiku agreed, and yes, that was right. He came to the mansion with Prussia to check if Germany was alright, after he'd slipped away without telling them he was going to go. 

Except he also remembered China teasing France about setting up a prank for when Prussia caught up with them, or, if Prussia didn't come, America and Canada.

But he knew he couldn't have come with them.

...it was with a larger group, then? With Prussia and China and Russia and France and Canada – trying to find America and Arthur and Italy and Germany. France had nearly ran towards the door, and Prussia had been holding him back and joking badly to cover his own nerves. 

He didn't come with them.

“Are you sure America came here?” Kiku asked. “I'm not sure I'm comfortable if we have to break in.”

“It really is abandoned!” Itay insisted. “It looks really nice to me, too!”

“Kesese, I'm almost disappointed,” Prussia said. “I expected something darker.”

“It doesn't feel right to me either.” Germany shook his head. “I'm not sure I want to go in if we're not sure.”

“Nobody's in the driveway, West, it's fine.” 

That was what he remembered.

Kiku took a slow breath and pulled his hand back from the dresser. He glanced at Russia and met his impassive stare before he heard Arthur punch the wall and curse.

“Why the Hell did you do that without warning me?” Arthur yelled. “What were you thinking?! Maybe I can't see the actual features of this room, but at least I wasn't hallucinating! Are you trying to scare me out of my wits, is that it?”

Kiku gave Arthur a shallow bow. “I'm very sorry I did not think to warn you. I thought it might help us sort out our confusion.”

“It didn't,” China said. “But Jiānádà thinks he knows what the clues are for. Come and listen.”

Kiku came over to stand by China in the circle, Russia on his other side. Canada was leaning on the piano again, both papers in his hands turned so the rest could see. 

“I thought I'd check to see if the colours on the paper looked like the colours drawn on the piano keys and I was right. They look like they were done in the same markers. There's different numbers in each colour and if the safe that Allemagne and Italie found needs four numbers...” Canada paused and looked at them. Germany nodded in confirmation. “If that's the case, if we get another phone call we may have the code to the safe.”

“And if we don't get a phone call?” Arthur snapped.

“It's much easier to guess one number than four.”

Arthur snarled again, but he dropped his eyes anyways. Germany's phone rang and Canada looked expectantly his way.

“Right.” Germany answered his phone and held it out to Italy. Italy took it, surprised, but listened and nodded after a moment and hung up.

“It was Si,” he said.

“La, Sol, Re, and Si?” Canada walked around the piano and ghosted his hand over the keys. Arthur tensed, but didn't call out. Canada wrote something on the paper, then said “In order, they're 5294. Where did you say the safe was again, Germany?”

“I'll show you, if we're all ready to go.” He started towards the door after a look around, apparently eager to leave. Kiku didn't blame him. He followed behind him, glad to get out of the room. At least they were figuring something out.

IIII

Feliciano hung back as Ludwig started towards the door, letting the other Nations walk past him, intent on having figured out the safe. He drifted his hand over the keys, wondering if he should wipe them off now or wait to do it later, the next time they needed into the safe when it changed.

He sighed and smiled shakily, hurrying towards the door before he fell too far behind. Japan would be disappointed if he wasn't there when they opened it; angry but too polite to show it. He didn't want them to think he was lying. 

He wasn't. He was keeping things from them, but that was important, because if he didn't they'd do things in the wrong order, and if things happened at the wrong time, someone would die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for chapter


	6. Chapter 6

The code opened the safe, and inside there was another key. Canada looked it over and read the bar of the key before handing it back.

“It says a study, on the ground floor.”

“There's only two doors left to open,” Germany said. “Should we all go together?”

“What if the monster's waiting for us?” Italy asked.

“Then half of us should scout ahead?” Kiku suggested. “Itaria, Doitsu and I are most familiar with the house. We will come back once we know which door it is and if it would be possible for us to fight together in the room.”

“What door will you check first?” China asked. “We'll wait to help you if you need us.”

“We can likely get back to the kitchen easily if need be,” Germany said. “We will come back regardless of what we find.”

“Agreed,” China said. He glared at Arthur, who had scoffed, but Arthur did not opt to elaborate on his objection. Russia and Canada gave their agreement as well and Kiku left with Germany and Italy to find the door.

The locked door in the front hallway took the key but wouldn't unlock. They went into the back hallway behind the stairs and there was the second locked door on the far side of the second tatami room. The key turned in that lock, revealing a study with a large, cluttered table marred with burns and ink, and a couple bookcases. The rest of the room was large and open, with a big rug covering the centre of the room. 

Germany went to the table; Italy to the bookcases. Kiku took another look around the room, wondering what it was for. It didn't really look like a study: it was much larger than necessary. Germany had sat down at the table and was running his hands along the edge. He went underneath, paused, and there was a click before the bookcase Italy was examining swung out several inches.

“Oh! It's another door!” Italy pulled it open more. “I found another clock as well. What should I do with it?”

“Leave it here for now,” Germany said. “We don't know what it might do if we take it out of the room. We can bring the others here to break it.”

“Right!” Italy put the watch back on the bookcase and swung it all the way open. “I don't think we should shut this behind us, what if it gets stuck?”

Germany nodded and walked into the room. He stopped. “There's a cell in here? Why?”

“Oh, I dunno.” Italy said. He walked into the cell and picked up the box. “Honda, c'mon.”

Kiku looked back at the study door. “Shouldn't we lock the door?”

“I don't remember it having a lock, but this one does. Please, hurry!”

Kiku took a step into the room as he realized his skin was prickling with cold. He backed up again and turned, running into the cell after Germany and Italy. Italy handed the box to Germany and passed him to shut and lock the cell door from the inside. He finished and backed up just as a clawed hand lashed through the bars towards his face.

Kiku backed up into the wall and coughed, realizing he'd forgotten to breathe. Italy retreated and buried his face in Germany's chest, sobbing silently.

The monster paced outside the cell, back and forth. It rattling its nails along the metal bars, then wrenched at the door. Kiku's pulse jumped each time it did so, but the creature couldn't budge the door at all. It opened its mouth, baring teeth and a black throat, then turned and walked out, shutting the door behind it. 

Kiku stepped forward, studying the back wall of the bookcase and breathed a sigh of relief.

“There's a handle. We can get out. Thank you, Itaria, I did not realize...”

“It gets cold, sometimes,” Italy said. “Before it comes. I was just scared, that's all.” He sniffled and turned away from Germany, holding the box again. It popped open easily and Italy pulled out the key to offer it to him. “Here you go.”

Kiku accepted the key silently, reading the shaft without comment. It said it lead to a basement. He wasn't sure he was looking forward to it.

“It's still cold in here,” Germany said. “Normally it feels better once its gone.”

“Perhaps it is waiting outside the door for us.” Kiku sighed and waved to the door. “Itaria, can you...?”

Italy nodded quietly and unlocked the cell door again. Kiku walked past him and stared at the inside of the hidden door, considering their best course of action to get past the monster and get out. They had his sword, Germany's gun, Italy's knives...

“How well do you handle the whip you have with you?” Kiku asked.

“I'm not sure it will be enough...”

“He's very good,” Italy said. “It'll work!”

Ludwig sighed nervously, but he retrieved his whip and shook it out. “I've never used it for this; I don't know how effective it will be.”

Kiku put on his most reassuring tone. “It does not seem to matter if you can't do as much damage.”

“He can, actually,” Italy added. “Do you plan to go out first, Honda?”

“Hai,” Kiku breathed. He glanced at them over his shoulder again for reassurance, then pushed the door open and stepped forward into a crouch, slashing at where he expected the monster's knees to be. He heard the crack of the whip over his head and the monster staggered backwards. Kiku rose and ran for the door, slamming it open and holding it. Germany and Italy followed behind him soon and turned sharply for the hallway door, Kiku on their heels. 

Instead of turning left to go to the kitchen, however, Italy turned right at the front hallway. Kiku followed him, but it wasn't until they'd reached the bathroom and staggered inside that he realized what they were doing.

“It can't come in here,” Italy said. “We'll be okay.”

“Are you certain?” Kiku asked. He stayed facing the door, his sword out, as Germany and Italy leaned against the wall.

“Does the boy look like a fool?” a small voice said in Japanese. “Of course he knows! And I'm damn tired of you coming in here and not buying anything!”

“I'm very sorry.” Kiku stared over at the toilet and bowed reflexively to the spirit. “What are you selling?” he asked, unsure what else he should say. 

“Do you have money?” the spirit asked. It held out one small hand.

Kiku fished in his pockets and found his wallet. He pulled out a couple of the bills, but he didn't have very much. He offered what seemed reasonable. “What can I get for this much?”

The spirit took the money, smiled and deposited two beers in the sink before it disappeared. Kiku stared at where it had been.

“...what was that?” he asked.

“We're in Japan!” Italy said. “I thought you would know!”

“I do not know all that many spirits!” Kiku protested. “Why was it selling things from the toilet?”

“Are the drinks likely safe to consume?” Germany asked. He sat up from where he'd dropped himself across Italy's lap. “Because I could use a beer right now.”

Kiku picked up the bottles and eyed them a little before offering him one. “They look acceptably new. Kirin beer, if you like it.”

“I don't care what brand right now.” He accepted it happily and fished out his keys to open it, checked if it was good, and then drank it.

Kiku picked up the second bottle and wondered if he should hold onto it until they found Prussia or share it with someone else. He checked the door and the handle was almost hot after how cold the house had been before. 

“I think it's safe now,” he said. “We should go back to the others.”

Ludwig stood up reluctantly and offered Italy a hand to help him up as well. Kiku led the way back to the kitchen and, as he came through the door, asked “Would anyone here wish a beer?”

“Where did you find that?” Arthur asked. 

“There was a spirit selling it in the bathroom.”

“And you bought something from it?!” Arthur cursed. “Why the Hell would you trust it?”

“We're not in England, Arthur, not everyone's spirits are like the fae.” Canada rolled his eyes and held up his hand. Kiku handed him the bottle and he opened it barehanded.

“You're not even supposed to be here,” Arthur snapped, glaring at Canada's back. “Weren't you going hunting?”

“Alfred asked me to come along to the mansion first,” Canada said. He glared at him over the beer and drank, making a bit of a face at the taste.

“It was none of your business to come along. You're a paranoid over-protective bastard.”

“We found another clock,” Kiku said pointedly. “We felt we should bring you to the room before we break it, in case removing it from the room caused problems. The study has enough space for us all.”

“Ah, yes!” Russia said cheerfully. He pushed himself off the counter. “Of course we will come.”

China started for the door, and Canada began to pack up his things from the table. Kiku walked over to help, picking up one of the crossbow bolts curiously.

“What materials are these made from?” Kiku asked softly.

“Aluminum. I don't bring the more precise shafts when I'm hunting and it's just for fun. These are very light.” Canada sighed. “I was checking if the ones I'd recovered were intact and putting a few more together.”

Kiku eyed his workspace and saw the four-arrow quiver and metal arrowheads separate from the shafts. “How many do you have?”

“I started with twenty. One shaft was bent and one of my arrowheads is a little dented, but it should still be usable for this.” He pulled everything back together and put it into his bag before hanging his crossbow off the back again. “As long as I can continue to recover the bolts, I won't run out. It's better than a gun right now.”

Kiku had to agree. Canada shouldered the backpack and picked up the beer, sipping at it as he walked. Germany nodded to them as soon as they came into sight and set out to the study. Inside, Italy retrieved the pocket watch from the shelf. Germany took it and stood at the top of the room to look them all over.

“I think we need to talk out what's happening with these clocks and the confusion that we argued about upstairs,” he said. “We can't solve this by yelling at each other. We need to be clear on what has happened and what we're doing here, and since the distorted memories seem to accompany the clocks, let's discuss it before we break this one. Would anyone like to start?”

Arthur raised his hand sullenly. Germany nodded to him to speak.

“We all remember we started at the G20 meeting, at least?” He glanced around the room and then carried on. “So America came in saying he'd heard a rumour about this place and he wanted to go check it out. We went – Russia, China, Canada, France, him and myself – and when we got here China texted Japan that we'd arrived and he said he was still at the meeting house.”

“Hai,” Kiku agreed, and shifted to English. “After I got the text, Italy started to say he wanted to go as well. He talked us into it, and we left to join you as a group – Germany, Prussia, Italy, and myself.”

“Do we all agree those were the groups and the reasons we arrived here?” Germany asked. There was a general sound of agreement, and he nodded curtly. “Alright. We don't know why we get confused, but it seems that some of us are getting... false memories of that event.”

“Mm!” Italy agreed. “Yes! The fake memories mix with the real ones and once you wake up from them, you can't tell which was which anymore.” 

“Like a dream,” Arthur agreed. “If we just make an effort to dismiss the memories as not real, it will be easier to keep track of everyone.”

“Agreed,” Germany said. “Does anyone else wish to speak on this?”

There was silence. Kiku wasn't sure if it was an unwillingness to draw it out, or just a lack of opinion, but after the silence had carried on for a while, Germany crouched, took out his gun, and smashed the clock on the floor.

Kiku watched the pieces settle, and Germany stood up and kicked the broken clock into the middle of the rug. He blinked and felt and saw himself shutting a door. He waked into the bedroom and startled Prussia again, dodged him and spoke about what had happened to them. It was exactly as he remembered and Kiku was relieved. 

“I can take you back to him, he's been worried about you, too,” Kiku said.

“Of course, he –” Prussia stopped and stared at the door. “Hey, Honda?”

“Yes?” Kiku looked at the door and suddenly he felt panic stab through his chest. 

“Did you lock the door?” 

Kiku grabbed for his sword as the door burst open, but Prussia had his out, was already moving forward. The monster caught Prussia across the chest and slammed him into the floor, then slapped Kiku backwards. Kiku struggled back to his feet only to watch the monster look around the room and walk back out. He staggered forward and fell by Prussia's side, touching his shoulder but scared to try and move him. 

“Beilschmidt?” Kiku asked. “Are you...?”

“I'm okay,” Prussia said. He tried to push himself up and collapsed, gagging. Kiku swallowed. He had blood on his own clothes from the monster hitting him; Prussia was still bleeding, soaking the floor and struggling to breathe: he gagged and brought up blood.

If he'd been a stronger Nation, Kiku wouldnt' be worried, but he wasn't... and this place already made it harder to heal.

“Tell Ludwig I'm sorry I didn't catch up,” Prussia said, when he'd stopped choking and had some breath once more. “Make sure you get him out, okay?”

“Of course,” Kiku said. “We – we were just waiting for you. We'll get out.”

Prussia laughed breathlessly. “Of course you are. And Feli, too... fuck.” He clenched his hand on his sword and tried to get up again. Kiku winced as he screamed and couldn't make it, and touched Prussia's hair lightly. He wouldn't leave him. 

It likely wouldn't be long.

Kiku's throat hurt. He blinked, and saw another room. It wasn't one of the rooms he'd been in upstairs. The walls were pale stone and even, with a door on either end. Italy was in front of one; Prussia, alive and well, was in front of the other. 

“It's playing with us!” Germany growled. “It's chasing us through this house like a cat plays with a mouse! I'm sick of it.”

“That's enough, West!” Prussia snapped. “Don't let it poison you like that. We'll get out, we're going to make it.”

“I don't see it.” Germany gestured around the room. “We're stuck here until it comes for us!”

“Dammit Ludwig, you're not helpless! Don't act like it!”

Germany jerked to attention and stared at his brother. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't let it get to me like this.”

“It'll be okay,” Italy said earnestly. He moved forward as if he meant to go over to Germany, but he stopped himself and stayed in front of the door. “It'll be okay, I promise. You'll all get out this time, and when you do, just run. Don't look back, don't come back, not for anything, okay?”

“We're all going to get out,” Germany said. He sighed and smiled at Italy nervously. “We're going to make it, Feliciano.”

Italy shook his head. “It doesn't matter who gets out. Please, just run. Okay?” The door behind Italy slammed open, and Italy smiled. 

“I'm not afraid,” he said, and the monster closed its claws over his head.

“Giappone!” Italy shouted.

Kiku jerked back and stared at Italy – who was alive and well and had never been in that room before. “I'm sorry, I...” He looked around and realized he was back in the study with everyone else.

“Is that everyone?” Russia asked. “It was interesting.”

Kiku shuddered. He did not want to see things like that again. “I'm alright, Feli. Are you sure you're alright? You're not...” He wasn't sure of the words for it, not in English, and Italy had little grasp of Japanese. “Hurt somewhere, are you?”

“What?” Italy smiled, his face stiff. He pulled his hands back from Kiku's arm. “No, I'm fine. I don't know what you mean.” He laughed awkwardly. “I'm just fine.”

Italy retreated from him to cling to Germany again, leaning his face against his coat. Kiku watched him for a moment longer, not at all sure what he meant, and turned to address the others. 

“Are we all done?” Kiku asked. “If so, we should go to the basement. We have the last key now. There's nothing left for us upstairs.”

“Yes,” Arthur said flatly. He was pale and sweating, and Kiku wondered what kind of memories would do that to him. “Let's go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol use in passing.  
> Flashback to graphic character death.  
> No other content warnings.


	7. Chapter 7

The basement door led into a small antechamber, off of which there was an unfinished staircase down to a second antechamber. There was two passages out aside from the stairs. Across from the staircase, a door led into a small study. Kiku went inside to search it while the others stood watch. Italy came in after him and shut the door. 

Kiku glanced back at him, then stopped and turned. “Itaria, are you alright?” 

Italy pressed harder against the door. “I know you're worried about me, but you need to just forget about it. Whatever memories you saw, they're not real, remember?” He made a placating gesture and then spread his hands into an broad shrug. “I know the memories can be really upsetting, I got some really bad ones too and it's horrible, but it didn't happen and it's best if you just forget it!”

“I can't just forget it,” Kiku said. “If there's something important in what I saw – I saw a room we haven't been in upstairs, and if we end up there you'll be –”

“I said forget it!” Italy snapped. He clenched his hands and took a step towards him, teeth bared. He stopped himself and wiped his expression, closing his eyes and patting himself on the cheek with a laugh. “Oh, Honda, I'm sorry, I'm so terribly upset by all this. Please, just – let's go and you can just pretend it's not a problem and we'll worry about such things later, okay? It's not going to help anyone to worry about it. Right? Right.” Italy turned and opened the door again. “Thank you, Ludwig, it went fine, see? I'm okay.”

Kiku rubbed his hands gently over each other. Italy worried very easily, but Kiku had very rarely seen him react so violently to it. Italy had been unusually quiet in this house; he hadn't spoken at such length since they'd come inside, not that he could recall. 

That worried him more than the outburst itself.

Kiku looked at the desk and smiled a little as he found another key. He checked the bar, but there was no writing on it, and no indication what it might open. He pocketed it anyways and left the room.

“I found another key,” he reported. “It doesn't say what it opens. Shall we continue?” He gestured at the hallway beside the staircase. 

Canada approached the wall and found a light switch, but the light was very poor. He pulled out a flashlight and switched it on, checking the floor as they went. Kiku walked behind him with Russia at his side.

“How are you feeling down here?” China asked behind him. 

Kiku glanced over his shoulder and saw him walking beside Arthur. For his part, Arthur gave China a suspicious look in return. 

“It's basically the same as before. This place still bothers me.”

“Is it as empty down here as it was upstairs?”

“Not as empty, no, but there's still very little energy and no spirits I can sense.”

Kiku frowned. Arthur couldn't feel any spirits, but then what was the one in the bathroom or the mochi? How did they survive if the creatures Arthur was used to didn't? Usually he was very friendly with spirits while in Japan, regardless of what Kiku could or couldn't see himself.

“Has anyone seen other signs of life? Mice?” Kiku asked.

“Nothing,” Canada answered. “No signs of mice or rats or even insects. The floors are all spotless, and none of the linens nibbled.”

“If there's nothing like that in here, what broke the plate?” Germany asked.

“What plate?” Arthur asked.

“When we first came in,” Germany explained, much more calmly than Kiku himself felt. “We were in the entryway when something broke in the kitchen and Japan went to investigate. While he was gone, the monster attacked us and we scattered, but Japan didn't hear us or come.”

“There's two hallways up ahead,” Canada called back. “Do we go left or straight?”

“To the left?” Italy suggested. “If we go straight, we're even further from under the house than we started.”

“Anyone else?” Canada asked.

There was a general agreement, and Kiku turned back to Germany. “It sounds like it was trying to separate us,” he said. “If the monster is what broke the plate.”

“But why you?” Arthur asked. “It didn't know who would go investigate.”

“Yes, but someone would likely go.”

“If it was trying to split us up, why didn't it attack you while you were alone?” Germany asked.

Kiku could only shake his head.

The left hallway led into a living room space. There was a wide coffee table and two couches, and an alcove along one wall. The walls were empty, or looked empty. The Nations spread out to look around the room and Kiku wandered to one corner with a confused look, uncertain why it didn't look right to him. Arthur was hovering by the table with a distracted look while Canada examined the alcove nearby.

After a few minutes of staring, Kiku noticed a ripple in the wallpaper high on the wall. He tried to reach it and failed. 

“Kanada...?” he asked. “Can you get that for me?”

“Get what? Ohhh.” Canada pulled his knife out and ran his hand along the wall. He cut along a line Kiku had been seeing and not understanding, then ripped the wallpaper down to reveal another door. Canada put his knife away and pulled the door open, to reveal another dark hallway. He flipped on his flashlight and stepped inside.

Kiku bit down a protest, especially as the others came over to check on them. 

“Another door?” China asked. “Of course.”

“I don't think this is going where we want it to,” Germany said. “Where does it go?”

Overhead lighting flicked on inside and Canada answered. “It goes the length of the room and ends in another door.”

“The missing Nations can't have come here if it was papered over.”

“This might just be another way to reach the same place. Ivan, come with me?” 

Canada started down the hallway with Russia on his heels, and Kiku followed after them. The rest of the Nations came along and, at the far end, Canada got the door open and came out into another sitting room. This one had a larger table and bookcases full of red leather journals. Canada and Russia went out a door in the right hand wall while Arthur went to the table with a triumphant noise. Kiku followed him, surprised to see images burnt into the surface. 

“What is this?” he asked.

“The circles here, and here?” Arthur pointed to two images of seven pointed stars. “They're containment spells, but not ones I'm familiar with. This one appears to reference some kind of animal, while this one, with the square overtop? That's for something much stronger. They're both incredibly complex and I can't figure out why.”

“This is magic you're familiar with then?” Kiku asked.

“Yes,” Arthur nodded, one finger tracing a half-smeared line written in Latin. “The owner of this house brought back more than just architecture from Europe; he was trained in magic while he was there. Some of the imagery is obviously Japanese based, but he modified the workings extensively to combine them together. It was clearly his passion.”

“The hallway connects,” Canada called out. “We can get back to the intersection from here, the straight path would've taken us here.”

“Alright,” Kiku glanced around and found Italy and Germany investigating the other exit from the room. “What's there?” he asked.

“A barred door,” Germany said. “You said you found another key?” he asked.

Kiku walked around the couches to pass it over to them. Germany took the key and began to unlock the cell door.

“If these doors all locked, how would America and the others have gotten down here?” Arthur asked.

“I got locked into the library when I first entered it,” Kiku said. “Several of these doors are set to lock automatically upon closure.”

“How did they get them open in the first place?” Arthur asked. 

“The front door locked behind us too,” Italy pointed out. “Maybe this is more of it trying to separate us all?”

“Did you check if any of these doors do that?” Arthur asked again.

Kiku paused, then pushed open the barred door nervously. “I did not.”

“Well, I hope we don't get stuck down here as well,” Arthur growled. 

Germany opened the barred door and stepped through. He looked both ways and turned around to face the rest of them. “It's another hallway. There's a door on either end.”

“Let's go right this time?” Italy suggested. 

“I can feel the energy from the left is different; I should go see what it is.” Arthur said immediately.

“Can you just check the right with us first?” Italy asked. “If the creature is trying to split us up, we shouldn't do more to make that easier. Is the energy a bad kind or doing anything?”

“No,” Arthur scowled. “Let's make it quick, then.”

Italy happily led the way to the next room and Germany swore as he came through the door.

“Gilbert! You're okay!”

“Hey!” Prussia shouted back.

Kiku hurried through the door after him. Inside, behind a wall of iron bars, was America, France, and Prussia, all alive and well.

“What took you all so long?” Prussia cursed. “God, you'd think we wound up somewhere in Yakutsk!”

“You guys all made it okay?” America said. “We got locked in here!”

Canada raced up to the bars to reach through. “François, you're hurt!” 

“It's just a scratch, little one,” France said. He clasped Canada's arm. “Don't worry about me.”

Canada's face twisted. “I can't heal you from here. What the Hell?”

“Perhaps once the cell is opened?” France suggested.

Italy yelped, but Germany beat him to the cell and opened it with the key from the study as well. Prussia threw himself around his brother with a cry and America darted out and hugged Russia and Arthur in rapid succession. 

“Is everyone here?” America asked. He backed off Arthur quickly and looked around at the Nations, doing a headcount Kiku suspected. He turned and kissed Canada's cheek as he ran by to meet France at the door of the cell. 

“We're all here,” Kiku said. “We ran into each other shortly after I think you three disappeared.”

“Good. You guys must've had a hard time after that.” Prussia said. 

“It was very troubling to have lost you,” Kiku said. He smiled at him and got his hair ruffled in response. Kiku grimaced and quickly put his hair back in order. It was a great relief to see Prussia alive and well in person. While he knew the memory of his death was fake – he clearly had survived it – it was still a relief to confirm he was okay.

“Yeah, well, you know how it goes in stuff like this.”

Kiku did not, but he didn't wish to ask why Prussia thought that way. It was hard to fathom his mind on a good day. Prussia looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

“Them again?” he muttered.

Kiku looked and blushed a little. France had freed himself from Canada's insistence on healing him and wrapped himself around Arthur in a very friendly greeting. Canada shifted to greet America and pressed into his chest in a similar manner. 

“How did you wind up down here?” China asked, louder than necessary.

France broke away from Arthur with a blush. “Ah, yes. After you and Angleterre left, I investigated the other rooms and found nothing of interest until I reached the room you'd noted as having an unpleasant smell. The door was locked, but after I tried to get it open, Prussia pulled it open from inside and rushed me.”

“You didn't sound like you were picking the lock,” Prussia objected. “I thought you were going to force the door!”

“I would've been more careful had I any reason to suspect someone was in there!” France protested. 

“Yeah, I know, I was freaked out.” Prussia crossed his arms and sighed. “Once I saw it was François, I stopped and asked what the fuck had happened since you guys got here. We got ambushed by the monster and took off downstairs, leaving the door shut and locked behind us. When we got there, the monster was there, attacking America! He dragged us into it –” 

“You nearly tripped over me!” America shouted. “I thought we'd have a better chance with three against one, I wasn't trying to get you killed or anything!”

“In either case,” France interrupted. “With the creature chasing all of us, we found the nearest door and threw it shut to hide behind. It chased us downstairs into the tunnels until we got to this cell and hid inside. The cell locked itself on us and the creature just left. When we tried to get out, we couldn't get the door to open no matter what we tried.”

“So, now that you found us, can we leave?” America asked.

Canada wrapped his arm around America's waist. “We need to explain what we've found out about this place.”

“I am not waiting for that,” Arthur snapped. “I'm going to check out the other room.” 

He started for the hallway, and Kiku grabbed his arm, still addressing the others. “I'll go with him. Please manage without me.”

“Honda, please be careful,” Italy warned. “I can't lose you both.”

“I promise I will keep Igirisu safe, Itaria, don't worry. Please make sure things get explained?”

“I – of course,” Italy said. 

His agreement was weak, but Arthur shrugged off his hand and Kiku hurried to follow him. America called after them.

“Hey, Honda, wait! I'm coming with you, okay?” He jogged up and smiled at him anxiously. “You can explain it to me, right?”

Kiku raised his eyebrow at him, but didn't have time to argue. “Very well. I will explain when we get a moment, yes.”

“Great!” America beamed at him and jogged ahead down the hallway. Kiku followed him to the room Arthur had wanted to see as America continued. “What brought you guys down here finally?”

“We only just found the key to get us through the door.”

“What the – how the Hell did it get locked?”

“We don't know. It appears to be quite random what doors are locked or unlocked, and when.”

“Really?” America stared at him just outside the door. “All over the house?”

“Yes.”

“That's fucking creepy, man.” America pushed the door open and looked around, smiling at the corner. “Hey, what did you find Arthur?” he asked. 

Kiku followed him into the room, finding it set up as another kind of sitting room with a coffee table and bookshelves. Arthur was staring at the bookcase in the corner immediately to the left of the door.

“I don't know,” Arthur said.

America went over to stand beside him, hands in his pockets and leaning back on his heels. “Can you put it into words?”

Kiku left them to talk it out and searched the rest of the room. The corner opposite them proved to be another disguised door, this time one Kiku could get open himself.

“Amerika,” he called. “I found this.”

“Really?” America broke off the conversation with Arthur and joined him. “Oh, hey, that's cool. Where's it go?” He pushed open the door to suit his words and Arthur cursed his name behind them.

“Don't you fucking walk away from me!” he snarled. 

Kiku ignored his words – Arthur bluffed like that all the time – and followed America through the door. The hallway the door led to was not like the rest of the basement; it was unfinished. The floors were dirt; the walls, rough wet stone. The passage smelled moist and earthy.

“It's hard to see in here,” America complained. “There's no lights.”

Kiku glanced at the ceiling and had to agree. However, there was light coming into the hallway from the far end. He started towards it, America falling back to his shoulder, and Kiku wished he had Canada's flashlight with him so he could better watch the corners for what was now giving him a very real fear of rats.

The passageway turned left after a few metres, then left again into a much better lit passageway. Kiku realized he'd been hearing rain and simply hadn't been able to believe it, except that it was now clearly visible through a cave mouth forty feet up at the top of a rope ladder.

“Hey, that's a way out!” America shouted.

“It is,” Kiku agreed. He stared at it in deep suspicion.

“I knew it,” Arthur said. “I need to go try again.” He turned and left up the passageway. 

Kiku stayed where he was, watching America hang off the ladder to test its strength. He turned around on the bottom rung and grinned.

“This is really strong, I don't think its broken down at all!” America jumped off the ladder. “So we can just get out this way, we don't even have to go back upstairs at all!”

“Yes, so it seems.” Kiku wasn't confident in this at all. The memory of the square room was nagging at him. They couldn't get out like this; it was too obvious. The monster had to know they'd find it.

“So what is it, then.” America said. “You're upset. Talk to me, Kiku, please?”

Kiku blinked at him. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

“You agreed to me coming along, you're not following Arthur back to protect him, and you're staring at the exit like its gonna snap shut. Something's wrong. Can I do anything to help with it at all?”

Kiku nodded slowly. “I think, perhaps, you can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as they got back to the sitting room slash office, Alfred could see all over Arthur's face that he'd found something. “What is it?”

“I won't be a burden anymore,” Arthur snapped. “I got some of my magic back. If I had to, I could hold that thing in place.”

“How long?” Kiku asked.

“How –” Arthur took a step back. “Only two seconds, but I can do it!”

“Ah.”

“At least I'm not completely useless!” 

“Hey, hey, that's not what he's saying,” Alfred stepped between them, hands raised. “Did you find anything else? You were looking pretty hard at the shelves here.”

“I'm not sure,” Arthur turned back to the shelves. “I got distracted when I found the circle.”

“Where was it?” Alfred stepped over to study the shelf in question.

Arthur pulled the books out again to show him, and Alfred reached back to double-check the spot. He found a pocket watch and pulled it out. “What about this?”

“It's another clock?” Kiku said. “Should we break it?”

“If we have a way out, surely we don't need to bother.” Arthur said firmly.

“I want to know what it's like, from what you said Kiku,” Alfred said. “Besides, what if outside isn't all the way out? We wouldn't be off the property yet, would we?”

Arthur glared at him. “Fine, if you insist.” He took the watch from his hand and smashed it on the corner of the bookcase.

Alfred flinched back, and felt the jerk as his mind left behind what he was seeing to a new scene, him holding Mattie's hand and running out of breath down a hallway he'd never seen.

“The stairs!” Mattie pointed and tugged his hand to speed up. Alfred let go of his hand to run down the stairs, two at a time, so they didn't trip on each other.

It didn't work. Mattie cursed and fell hard behind him. Alfred didn't stop, not til he reached the bottom, and when he turned it was too late. Mattie had stopped falling several feet up, not because he'd caught himself, or his backpack had – he wasn't wearing it – but because the monster had pinned his wrist to the stairs and forced him to a halt.

His wrist was obviously broken. Alfred threw himself back up the stairs, but he was too far, and it was too late. The monster brought its claws down on him and Alfred slammed into its arm. His hand came down on the stairs and slipped in blood. 

Alfred fell and kept falling until he landed on his side in another room, this time knowing he wasn't getting up. Pain radiated from his broken leg beneath him, and Arthur stood before him, his spell throwing the monster into the wall. The room was roaring with magic so bright his Sight didn't need to be on to see and feel it. Bright thorns ripped into the monster until it vanished and Arthur sagged and dropped to his knees with a muffled curse. 

“It is gone?” Yao asked.

“No,” Alfred grunted. He struggled to stand and Yao helped him to his feet, walking beside him as he went over to Arthur's side. “It got away. Arthur, look at me. Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Arthur said.

Alfred didn't believe him. “Look at me.”

Arthur twitched and looked up, focusing hesitantly on his face.

“Arthur,” Alfred began, but he already knew the answer. He swallowed and blinked, and he was staring at Arthur, standing across from him in the sitting room – or office – in the basement. He shifted his weight on his legs, knowing it wasn't broken but needing to be sure. 

“What... what actually happened before we got here?” he asked.

“Ask Germany if you're confused,” Arthur said roughly. “He's not getting false memories.”

False memories. Right. Kiku had mentioned that's what the clocks did.

They felt incredibly likely for fakes, though.

“Hey, Arthur,” Alfred asked, needing to be sure. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Arthur gave him a disgusted look. “Four. Don't play stupid games with me, boy, we have better things to do.” He turned and stalked out of the room.

Alfred trailed behind him and Kiku into the room with the cell again and immediately went over to Mattie to pin him to his chest in a tight hug. 

“Hey,” his brother smiled up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. We found a clock and broke it, that's all.”

Mattie turned in his arms to hug him back as tightly as he'd hugged him. “It's not real, you know that, right?”

“It could've been real. Could be.”

“It's not, Alfred.” Mattie pressed his head into his neck hard. “I know, because you're still alive. We found you alive.”

Alfred swallowed. “Okay.”

Alfred rested his cheek against Mattie's and turned his attention to Kiku, where he was trying to get everyone's attention. Ivan rattled his pipe on the bars and they finally got silence.

“We found what looks like a way out,” Kiku explained. “It's a tunnel off the far room that leads to a rope ladder to a cave opening. If we can confirm the ladder is safe, we can get out of here.”

“That's incredible!” Yao cried. “That's all we needed, yeah?”

“It can be, we just –”

“It we have a way out, I want to check out the rest of upstairs,” Alfred said. Mattie stiffened against him; Yao turned to stare, and Ivan also went very still. “I haven't seen anything but down here! It's been damn boring!”

“I remembered some medicine I saw,” Yao said quickly. “I should go back and check it.” He kept his eyes on Alfred's for a moment, then turned to smile at Kiku.

“Well, even if you wander off, someone should make sure the ladder is solid,” Ludwig said crossly. 

“Yes!” Italy agreed. “We can go see that, yeah?”

“As long as nobody goes too far, we'll all be fine.” Gilbert pushed Francis towards Mattie. “I'll make sure my brother stays in one piece, but I want to talk to Japan first.”

Alfred saw Arthur slip out of the room again and he excused himself to Mattie to go after him. Mattie caught up with him by the door. 

“What are you doing?” Mattie hissed in French. Nobody nearby was fluent in it.

“I need to talk him into helping with this,” Alfred answered in the same language. “Nobody else can do it. Japan already put him off.”

“Why do you need him?”

“Can you hold the monster back?”

Mattie loosened his grip on his arm. “Be careful,” he said, then turned away and tugged on Francis' shirt. Alfred smiled tiredly back at him and caught up with Arthur.

“Hey, Arthur?” Alfred said. “Walk with me a bit?”

“Why?” Arthur asked. He fell into step with Alfred anyways and walked with him through the room with the large stained table. Alfred paused and snatched up one of the chairs to haul it over his back and up the hallway to the left.

“I need to ask you something.”

“We do not have time for me to coddle your –”

“Not that.” Alfred gave him a disgusted look. He pushed open the door at the end of the hallway and put the chair down by the far door. The room was small, square stone with another doorway directly opposite the one they'd come through. He pushed it open and looked out at the hallway beyond that led back to the anterchamber at the base of the stairs and off to his right. He shut the door again and turned to face Arthur. “Can you set up your spell here?” 

Arthur studied the door, then glared at him. “I can't hold the door shut, you know that.”

“I don't need you to.” Alfred held his temper. “Arthur, you said you could hold the monster for two seconds. Can you do better than that?”

“You know damn well I know my magic, you impudent cunt! I do not lie to you to please myself!”

Alfred took a step towards him. “I know damn well you lie all the time so people underestimate you. Can't. You. Do. Better?”

Arthur took a step back and looked away. “I could maybe hold it three seconds if I pushed myself hard enough to pass out, but you'd fucking well leave me behind.”

“Arthur,” Alfred bit his tongue. “Three seconds could save someone's life.” He forced a smile. “If you pass out, I promise I take care of you, okay? Please.”

Arthur hesitated, the spit and fury going out of him. He pursed his lips. “You're right. I need to get this ready, it will work better if I have it drawn out ahead of time.”

“Yeah, okay. Give me some chalk? Do you need anything above the door?” 

“No, I don't.” Arthur gave him a dubious look. “These have to be precise.”

“I can get one started,” Alfred said patiently. “I can do a circle, Arthur.”

Arthur put the chalk in his hand. “Fine.”

IIII

Kiku stayed in the room with Prussia after the others had wandered out. He stared back at his patient attention until the others were gone, then gave in. “What did you want to know?”

“You've got 'I'm worried and scared' plastered across your body language for anyone who knows you to see.” Prussia pointed out, speaking Japanese to Kiku's relief. “You've spent too much time around those polite jerks who don't pay enough attention and wouldn't dare ask. You know what I'm going to ask, so why don't you spare us both the games and tell me what happened.”

Kiku folded his arms across his chest and stared at the floor. “We found a clock in the sitting room, opposite here. When Igirisu broke it, I saw... I saw you and Doitsu and Itaria and I enter the cave, over and over again, and – we didn't all make it out. Ever. I could – change it, but nothing I tried worked. The monster always took someone.”

“What did you try?”

“I – Doitsu, he tripped, when we tried to run. I tried to ask you to go back for him, but you couldn't get him up in time; I tried to attack it, but it beat me. Itaria kept panicking; I think it's going after him.”

He was almost certain of it. In the memory, Italy had panicked and apologized, for not being able to beat it, for never succeeding, and then the monster had bypassed them all to attack him. Germany had tried to save him; it hadn't helped. Still, even knowing it did them no good. They needed to get out of the bottleneck in the basement alive regardless.

“Do you think if we're all prepared at once, it would make a difference?” Prussia said. “You can't beat something like this alone.”

“I don't know.” Kiku bit his lip, but nodded. “I think the – the scenarios I saw were tailored to make me feel like we would fail, no matter what I tried. If I felt certain of failure, we would be more helpless.”

“Exactly.” Prussia grinned. “So now that you know better, let's go and see. We'll get out, all of us, together. Nobody's getting left behind.”

“Yes,” Kiku agreed. He followed Prussia out of the room, feeling uneasy. The memories he'd seen had been incredibly vivid; as vivid as watching Prussia and Italy die. He didn't want to go through it again; he was not looking forward to this fight, and he was certain it was coming. 

Passing Canada in the hallway, Kiku stopped him to ask quietly in English, “Did Amerika talk to you?”

“He did,” Canada said. “We'll be ready.”

“Thank you,” Kiku relaxed a little. “Where is he?”

Canada tensed. “Up ahead. He said he needed to talk to England in private; he can be incredibly sensitive about his magic. Alfred's best at talking him into things when they have some space.”

“I see.” Kiku took a small step back. “I'm sure they will be okay.”

“Of course.” Canada smiled at him without humour and went through the metal door.

Kiku sighed and caught up with Prussia in the sitting room. Germany, Italy, and Prussia were waiting for him, Prussia chatting quietly with Russia where he was leaning on the bookcase in the corner. As soon as Kiku arrived, Prussia broke off the conversation. 

“Ready to go?”

“Yes,” Kiku said. “Roshia?” he asked.

“I will wait here,” Russia said calmly. “In case you need me.”

Kiku nodded tensely, but Germany entered the tunnel, Italy at his back and he hurried to keep up with them. Prussia went just ahead of him, and Kiku took a couple careful breaths before feeling oddly optimistic. The air didn't feel any different; it was a little cool, but not more than he'd expect. Germany turned the corner up ahead, Italy stopping to lean against the wall. Prussia turned to laugh a little at him.

“It's stupid to worry about dreams, eh?” he said.

Kiku nodded. 

There was a soft sound ahead, something heavy dropping onto soft ground, except that didn't crack and spit. Italy choked and Prussia drew his sword and ran ahead, before Germany even had a chance to scream. Kiku drew his sword and rushed after them, cursing their optimism letting him get out of sight.

A whip cracked and Germany staggered into the back wall. Prussia skidded to a stop in front of him, sword bared and Italy by his side. Orange light rippled across their faces, not sunset but fire. Kiku came up last and stared.

They weren't getting out by the ladder. The rope had burned away halfway up the wall to a point it seemed the rope was too wet to burn more. Patches of root and grass along the walls were sizzling and burning and, in the centre, the monster stood and stared back, firelight reflected off glittering black eyes.

“We need to retreat,” Kiku said. “Stay together, let's go!”

Italy grabbed Germany's arm and started to run; Prussia at his back. Kiku led the way, glancing over his shoulder nervously, uncomfortable that the monster wasn't rushing them; wasn't hurrying at all. Italy let go of Germany to run to the door and Kiku reached it behind him only to look around and realize Germany had fallen behind. Prussia caught his eyes and skidded and fell, trying to turn as he heard Germany trip and shout.

Italy gasped. “Ludwig!”

He bolted back up the tunnel, faster than Kiku had expected. Kiku reached the corner at the same time as Prussia and watched as Italy's knife went through the monster's hand. It jerked back from Germany, and stepped back again as Prussia screamed “Deus lo volt!” and slashed at the creature's stomach. Kiku tracked Prussia's path and flanked him, pushing the monster back away so Italy could reach Germany and get him up off the ground. 

Kiku heard a gasped sob, but didn't dare look. Even the moment's inattention cost him; he jerked back a second too late and the monster slashed open his thigh. Prussia snarled and forced the monster back again before grabbing Kiku's arm and hauling him up. 

“Feliciano, go!” Prussia shouted. Italy and his brother jogged ahead, Prussia on their heels and Kiku struggling to keep up. 

They came through the door at the far end to find Russia with his sword out already. He sheathed it immediately.

“It is time to go?” he said. “Let me take him, Prussiya.”

Kiku did not protest. Russia braced him in one arm against his shoulder and followed Italy out the far door, Prussia at the back. They picked up China by the metal door, then France and Canada as they went up the hallway to the left until they ran into America and Arthur in a small room at the end. Russia put him back on his feet and Kiku nodded his thanks.

Prussia, for his part, forced the lock closed on the door behind them and stepped back from it, crossing himself worriedly. “Hopefully that will slow it down.”

“Yes,” Kiku agreed. “It doesn't seem to chase us for long. Hopefully we can catch our breath and carry on.”

“It is playing with us,” Germany growled, his whip gripped tightly in his hands. “It's chasing us through this house like a cat plays with a mouse. I'm sick of it.”

Prussia turned sharply. “That's enough, West. Don't let it poison you like that. We'll get out; we're going to make it.”

“I don't see it.” Germany jerked his hand around the room. “We're stuck here until it comes for us!”

“Dammit, Ludwig, you're not helpless! Don't act like it!”

Germany jerked to attention. Italy moved as if to go to him, but instead took a step back. Kiku bit his lip, uncomfortable and not sure why. The air felt clear, but he was uncomfortably aware of the sweat cooling on his back. 

“I'm sorry,” Germany said more quietly. “I shouldn't let it get to me like this.”

“It'll be okay,” Italy said. “It'll be okay, I promise. You'll all get out this time and when you do, just run. Don't look back, don't come back, not for anything, okay?”

“We're all going to get out,” Germany said, worried. “We're going to make it, Feliciano.”

Italy laughed a little and shook his head. “It doesn't matter who gets out. Please just run. Okay?”

Kiku jerked to attention at the words, but he was too far from the door. It slammed open behind Italy, and Italy stood there, rigidly in place, and smiled.

“I'm not afraid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to character death  
> No other content warnings for chapter.
> 
> For those curious, "Deus lo volt" is (corrupt, common Latin or Catalan) for "God Wills It" and is associated with the Crusades.


	9. Chapter 9

The chair shattered over Alfred's head, but it blocked the monster's claws as it came apart in his hands. He thrust its arm back and kicked it in the stomach before he dragged Italy out of the doorway with him. 

“Arthur, now!”

Arthur swept his wand out of his bag and sketched in the air before shouting the words of the spell. Alfred felt the shiver of magic rise around him, visible lines of magic snaring the monster to the floor. He took another few steps back, shaking out his arm and pulling a splinter out with a disgusted noise. 

“China, Japan?” he asked. “Can you still fight?”

“I don't believe so,” Kiku shook his head and Alfred stepped back beside him. Gilbert brushed past them, standing level with Ivan and Yao at the front of the room.

“Is this the best we can do?” Ludwig growled.

“My bullets didn't do much,” Alfred admitted.

“They did when you got a headshot upstairs,” Kiku pointed out. “If you can do that again?”

He didn't have to say more. Mattie pulled his crossbow off his backpack and put a bolt in the clip. Alfred pulled out his gun and forced his arms still. The spell began to flash bright and dark, spitting sparks as it degraded. Arthur gasped and sagged to his knees; the monster punched the door behind it, splitting it down the middle and ripping the rest of the spell apart.

“What kind of headshot?” Alfred demanded rapidly.

“Between the eyes,” Feliciano said. He was backing up to the far wall and stumbled into it before he slid to bury his face in his knees. Alfred looked back at the monster and flinched as it swept Ivan into the wall with a loud crack. 

Alfred fired and missed, but the monster turned his way. Ivan pushed himself off the wall and thrust his sword under its ribs with a snarl. It'd be a heart shot on something else, angled like that, but this monster turned and slammed his shoulder into the wall for the second time, narrowly missing Ivan's head. Ivan dropped his sword and sank down the wall with a smear of blood. 

Gilbert was more cautious; he stabbed the monster and dropped and retreated immediately. The creature slammed its first into the ground behind his retreat and Mattie's quarrel lodge in its eye. The monster shrieked and punched the wall over Ivan's head before rushing past Gilbert to charge Mattie. Ludwig snapped his whip across its face and it jerked back, arms up to guard itself.

“Over here, fucker!” Alfred screamed. He fired twice at its head; knowing he was going to miss and not caring. He'd do anything to get it away from Mattie. It turned and rushed him, cuffing Yao in the side of the head with an offhand fist as it went. Alfred fired until his gun was empty, dropped it and threw himself into a tumble towards the front of the room again. 

“Here, you monster!” Feliciano screamed. “Come get me!”

The monster punched the wall and turned to face back the way it came. It bared its teeth in a silent snarl and Alfred heard Mattie's crossbow fire. The monster's head jerked back and it vanished with a gasp of air; two crossbow bolts dropped to the ground from midair.

The room was silent and heavy, nobody willing to move in the moments as they all waited to see what came next. 

“Ivan?” Alfred whispered. His throat was dry and hoarse, although he didn't remember screaming that much.

“Shit.” Yao whimpered. He staggered to his feet and walked across the room to kneel beside Ivan's crumpled body. 

“Is he...?” Alfred asked.

“He's breathing,” Yao said. He sank down to sitting as well. “His shoulder is crushed.”

“Kesesese...” Gilbert closed his eyes and fumbled sheathing his sword twice before he got it back in properly. “That was...” He stopped abruptly and stared into the corners of the ceiling with a muffled curse. “What the Hell was that?”

“What was what?” Alfred tensed, unsure if he should bring up his Sight again or not. If it would keep them safe...

“You – you didn't hear that?” Gilbert asked.

“No.” Alfred looked around at everyone else to see if it was just him, but everyone else just looked confused. Mattie squinted and shook his head. “There wasn't anything.”

“I thought I heard... nevermind.” Gilbert shook himself. “Just battle-high.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Alfred pushed himself up on the wall and walked the rest of the way to kneel by Arthur's side. He checked Arthur's pulse and breathing, but there was no reason to be concerned. He could see from the set of his face and how he was lying that he was simply unconscious. It hadn't been a complex enough spell to do worse to him.

“Are you going to be okay taking care of him?” Mattie asked.

Alfred smiled up at him. “Yeah, Mattie, I'm sure. I promised.” He turned to look around the room at the rest of the Nations. Feliciano was healing Ivan; Gilbert was leaning on Francis' shoulder and talking quietly with Ludwig. Alfred sank further to the floor, feeling kind of lost. “What are we going to do now?” he asked loudly.

“We need to rest,” Yao said. “Opium, Rìbĕn, and Éluósī cannot do anything until they've recovered, even with healing. I could use a rest, myself, if we can find a place that will be safe for a few hours.”

Alfred tried not to laugh at that. The closest they had to a safe place to rest was the cell he and Gilbert and Francis had already left behind. “Fuck,” he said simply.

“I know somewhere we can go,” Ludwig said. “I can take us there.”

“Are you sure?” Gilbert asked. “Where is this?”

“On the second floor. I know it's safe, I promise you. It's finished, now. We just have to make it there.”

“Well shit,” Alfred said. He pulled Arthur up. “Anyone got a better idea? I want out of the basement, at least.”

Mattie helped Alfred get Arthur stabilized over his back. Feliciano finished healing Ivan and Yao woke his neighbour with a light slap across his face. Feliciano spoke to Kiku, then turned and came over to smile at Alfred.

“Thank you,” he said, his face carefully formed to look happy.

Alfred fought down his first few responses, not wanting to make a scene, before settling on, “Save that smile for someone who's not used them as much as I have, yeah?”

The smile dropped off his face and Italy turned to start out the door, Ludwig on his heels. Alfred followed behind, Mattie stuck to his side like a burr. Ivan walked with Yao and Gilbert and Francis, staggering a little as he went. Eventually, Gilbert dragged Ivan's arm over his shoulders as they went up the stairs and the two shared their strength to make it the rest of the way. Arthur stayed out cold all the way into the first door at the top of the stairs on the second floor. In the back left corner, there was a metal door where a closet should've been.

“What the fuck is that?” Alfred asked. 

“It's a saferoom,” Ludwig said. “Be careful on the stairs.” 

He led the way inside and Alfred had no choice but to follow. The stairs, when he saw them, were the kind that fold down from a trap door. They weren't terribly solid and Alfred went up them very carefully, Mattie keeping close behind him in case he fell. It would suck to have to explain a concussion to Arthur when he woke up – or worse, if the fall woke him. 

He made it upstairs, however, and, once he located a bed, went to lay Arthur down so he could finish staring in peace. 

The space inside was shockingly large. Alfred tried to picture the house to place the attic space here and couldn't. It shouldn't have existed, and yet it did. They were in an attic, with a peaked roof that slanted down on both sides overhead to a couple small windows, but still there was space for a kitchen and a set of large tables and ten beds and a fireplace arranged around the space. 

“Déguó, you did this...?” Yao asked. “How did you find the time?”

“It was already partially finished when I found it,” Ludwig said, obviously pleased by the praise. “I really didn't have that much to do.”

Feliciano was clinging to Ludwig's arm again, but he was staring around the room in shock as well. Ivan had sat down by the tables opposite the beds and was looking equally impressed. Alfred didn't see Gilbert or Francis at first, but they came out of a door along the back wall with Francis drying his hands and fussing at a bandage under Gilbert's sleeve with a cross look Alfred knew very well. 

“West, did you really do all of this?” Gilbert asked. “What did you find up here?”

“I think we all need to rest first,” Ludwig ducked his head and pulled Feliciano to his chest. “We'll all be more up to talking these things out after we've had some time to lie down.”

“Who should be on first watch?” Kiku asked.

“We don't need one,” Ludwig said, surprised. “We can pull up the ladder behind us, but if you'd feel better if we did, go ahead. I plan to rest.”

Alfred suspected Ludwig didn't want to rest as much as he wanted to just sit and hold his boyfriend close. Alfred could appreciate the feeling, but he could tell Arthur was starting to wake up and he had to get him settled first. He sat down beside him, watching Mattie disappear into the back room as Ludwig confirmed it was a bathroom and wishing he could go with him.

“Hey Arthur,” Alfred said.

Arthur squinted at him and glanced at the roof with a frown. “Where are we?”

“Upstairs,” Alfred said. “In a safe room Germany built.”

“Are we here for the night?” Arthur asked. He was still staring at something on the roof, his eyebrows frowning.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Arthur closed his eyes and shifted to pull a zippered hard case out of his pocket. “If we're stable for a while, I need you to do this for me.”

“Oh.” Alfred swallowed; fuck, he'd forgotten this would be part of it. “Sure, I can do it.” 

He opened the case and checked that he recognized everything he'd need to use. Cotton balls, small bowl, lighter, alcohol wipes and a reuseable glass syringe, as well as the small bag containing three heroin rocks. 

Alfred took a careful breath and closed it. “I'll be right back, then. Stay here.”

Arthur smiled contentedly and stretched a little in the bed. “I'll make myself comfortable. I promise I won't go bother anyone else.”

“Good,” Alfred said a little more harshly than he meant to. He walked to the bathroom and hoped one of the sinks was free. He pushed open the door and Mattie looked up to smile at him. He saw the case in his hands and the smile dropped off his face.

“He's awake?” Mattie asked.

“Yeah,” Alfred smiled and walked over to open up the case. “He'll probably fall asleep right away, though.”

“It's a good time for him to take it, yeah.”

Alfred hesitated over the kit, not sure where to start. He didn't have anywhere stable to set this – the sinks had no counter space – and Mattie reached over to pull out the bowl and rocks and syringe for him. 

“Put your hands under the faucet,” Mattie asked. Alfred did so gratefully and watched him get the right amount of water into the bowl with the heroin and began to heat it, in a way Alfred had never had the coordination for.

Not when he knew how furious Arthur would be if he did anything wrong, at any rate.

“I forgot you've done this more recently than me,” Alfred said regretfully.

“Not for him,” Mattie said. “He still preferred snuff or laudanum when I last visited him, but I know a few people who do this. I've tried it, too. Didn't like it enough to keep at it like Arthur does.”

“Yeah, you're right.” Alfred flexed his hands. 

“Turn your head for me,” Mattie said abruptly.

“Huh?”

“You've got blood in your hair. The monster got you in the scalp when it broke the chair, and it's all down the back of your head. Go rinse off and I'll make sure there's no splinters in the wounds, alright?”

“I should be the one doing that, no you.” Alfred waved at the bowl.

Mattie gave him a sympathetic look. “You know you're shaking too much to do it. I'm not going to take it back out to him, but let me do this for you, okay?”

Alfred nodded shallowly and went and ducked his head under the bathtub tap. He scrubbed at the blood and winced, picking out a few splinters even as he could tell the cuts were already closed, if not healed. He was almost done when Mattie said “Let me help,” and pulled his head out so he could split his hair and examine the cuts.

“I need to go back if you're done,” Alfred said.

“You normally take longer than this to get it done yourself anyways.”

“He'll notice my hair's wet.”

“Tell him you didn't want to get blood in the mix.”

Alfred shivered and nodded, leaning into Mattie's touch and wishing he could just curl up in bed with him already.

Mattie shut off the tap and hauled over a towel to rub his hair dry, careful of the cuts. He checked the cuts again before smoothing down his hair. 

“You're not bleeding much at all; the wounds look clean. It'll be closed after you sleep.” He kissed his forehead and stood up. Alfred stood up after him and Mattie offered him the full syringe and the closed kit. “Come back when you're done, okay?”

Alfred nodded shortly and left the bathroom quickly, holding the syringe firmly in case he dropped it. If he broke it, Arthur would kill him. He sat down on the edge of Arthur's bed and opened the kit to find the strap curled up in the bottom, as Arthur turned and pushed up his sleeve. Alfred set the syringe on his chest and wrapped the strap around his arm for him. 

“Can you p-put it in?” Alfred asked. He couldn't look at him. “My hands are shaking.”

Arthur didn't argue; he knew how bad Alfred's aim was, and he was skilled at this after so many years. Alfred unwrapped the strap and took the syringe when he was done, packing them into the kit for later. He bent down to put it by Arthur's pillow.

Arthur caught his hair as he leaned over him and kissed him hungrily on the lips. Alfred froze. 

“Stay with me, please?” Arthur said. “I miss you.”

Alfred wet his lips, swallowed, and couldn't speak. He desperately wanted Arthur to let go of his hair, but he didn't dare pull away. They needed him. He couldn't pick a fight over this.

“Hey, mon anglais.” Francis slipped his hand under Arthur's on Alfred's hair and made him let go. “Let him go wash up, he hasn't had a chance yet, okay? I'll stay with you, I promise.” Francis sat down on the far side of the bed from Alfred and turned to him with a sad smile. “Go,” he added.

Alfred jerked up from the bed and fled back to the bathroom, trying not to actually run. He nearly fell into Mattie's arms just inside the door, waiting by the bathtub for him to come back. He sank to his knees, buried his face in his lap, and cried.

IIII

Kiku was not surprised to see that, as much as Germany had said he wished to rest, he found him sitting on a chair in the kitchen watching Italy find something in the bags and boxes nearby that he could cook with. The iron-bellied stove was already burning fuel from the stacks along the wall. 

The other Nations had mostly found themselves space on the beds. France was pressed against England's back. China and Russia had taken opposite sides by the far wall, and Prussia was in the bed next to Arthur and France. Kiku wasn't comfortable going to sleep yet, even with the ladder up and as locked as they could make it.

“What was already here when you found this place?” he asked.

“Most of this,” Germany looked around the room. “I found the closet as I said, when I ran away, and once I calmed down I came up here. There was materials and tools already sitting out for me to just – put them together.”

“This is ideal for us.” Kiku looked at the beds again. There was ten of them, single beds. Not luxurious, but they appeared to be new. 

And there was exactly enough for all of them, had they wanted separate beds.

“Yes.” Germany looked away from him to stare at Italy again.

“I'll leave it til morning,” Kiku said. He slipped away to go into the bathroom, too tired to question Germany's confidence in the room's safety; there was little they could do if they weren't as safe as he thought anyways. 

He stepped into the bathroom and heard a soft gasp. He blushed and looked away from America and Canada where they had curled up on the floor together. 

“I'm sorry to intrude.” He bowed their general direction. “I will just be over here.”

He moved quickly to the sink and tub at the back right of the room, drawing the curtain closed. He could still hear them talking, but not enough to understand them – they weren't speaking a language he recognized. He washed up as best he could, then pulled the curtain back warily.

America was sitting on the stool now, with Canada tending to the scratches he'd gotten on his scalp. Kiku paused. 

“How is he healing?” he asked.

“A little slow,” Canada said. “Which is good, because he got splinters in the wound. I'm not really surprised that it is, everything's getting in our way, here. Do you want me to look at your leg?”

Kiku glanced down at his leg again. “I washed it already. I don't have anything else to change into, for clothes.”

“There's robes on the back of the door,” Alfred said. “Your kind. You can change into that and I'll wash your pants and you can sew them up in the morning maybe?”

“I have some bandages I can put over it so you're not rubbing it on the sheets all night,” Canada added. America began to get up and Canada held his shoulder. “I wasn't finished.”

“You're not putting a bandage on my head and you already cleaned it out. Get his pants off him so I can wash them already.” America stood up and threw one of the yukata Kiku's way.

Kiku caught it and hung it over the sink before stripping gratefully out of his pants, not at all upset at the thought of them seeing his legs if it meant he had clean clothing to put on after he slept. He handed the pants to America to wash and then leaned on the sink while Canada examined the cuts on his leg and began to unfold a couple gauze pads to tape over the wounds. Kiku watched America as he washed his pants for him and after a little while Kiku was certain that he was shaking.

Canada noticed the direction of his gaze and shook his head. “Please don't ask,” he said quietly. “He just needs to distract himself.”

“Is he alright?”

“He will be.” Canada's face was set. “He doesn't like being trapped like this.”

“None of us are happy about this, no.”

Canada looked amused and shook his head, and Kiku felt once again he was missing something obvious. It wasn't a new feeling; he'd felt it often since they reached the mansion, when he'd only been with Germany, Italy, and Prussia.

“These bathrooms are all really nice,” Canada said. “Whoever built this place was planning on having a lot of people in here, though.”

“Yes,” Kiku agreed. “It's exactly what we would need.” He eyed the curtains and the stalls – set up to make the bathroom useable by four people at a time. “I will have to ask Doitsu more about what he thinks was here to start with.”

“That would be interesting to know,” Canada said.

“I got out what I could,” America said. “I'll hang it in here to dry, Kiku, then sew it up, okay?”

“I can do the sewing once I wake up, Alfred,” Kiku said gently. “I appreciate you washing it for me. We should both get some rest, though.”

America stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, well, it's no big deal. I just wanted to help out.”

“You've done more than enough.”

“I know, but I gave my word.” America's face went calm and quiet.

Kiku gave him an interested look back. “How much of that did you plan, to get us out?” he asked. “I did not expect you to arrange so much, I felt like I barely gave you enough information to know what was to come.”

“Well, you said you thought it was a trap. I knew there was only the one way out – even the one you took, it's just longer, it's not really safer. Having more room wouldn't really have helped, not with the switchback in the passage. I just asked Mattie to make sure everyone was waiting to help you out along the way and make sure you got out of the back halls, then made sure Arthur took the time to do his spell right so we got the most time out of what he could do.” America laughed awkwardly. “It wasn't a big deal.”

Kiku sighed softly. “We owe you much for that. We would've lost Itaria if you hadn't done it.” He searched America's face for something, some piece of just how much of this was normal for him, the intense planning and handle he had on how people would react. He just looked lost and kind of sad. 

“I'll do whatever it takes to get us all out alive,” America said. “I'm sure we'll all make it.”

He smiled and laughed, and Kiku felt it was good – very good – but he was also sure it wasn't real confidence at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Detailed heroin use  
> Abusive FACE family dynamics  
> Brief sexual assault  
> No other content warnings for chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

Feliciano rocked lightly on the chair at the head of the table, staring out the bars of the window on the second floor. The rain outside was pattering against the window. The fireplace was cold – the whole room was cold, but he didn't know if that was just him or not. England leaned against the table, dragging the end of the key across the wood and refusing to look at anyone. 

They were waiting for Gilbert to come back. The noise England was making didn't even bother him anymore. Ludwig was hovering at his back, but Feliciano wouldn't let him comfort him; not yet. 

Not unless Japan was okay.

Across the room, standing in the corner, China and Russia waited in silence. China was watching England like he expected him to do something; Russia met Feliciano's eyes. Feliciano darted his gaze away, swallowing the urge to throw a knife between his eyes and make him stop. 

The door opened and Gilbert came in. He glanced at Feliciano, then looked away.

“Gilbert,” Feliciano stood up, one hand braced on the table. “Gilbert, is he – is Honda coming?”

“He... fell asleep.” Gilbert closed his eyes and clenched his fist. “He's not waking up again.”

Ludwig punched the table hard enough to send the key skittering away from England's hands. 

“Watch yourself!” England snarled. He stood up. “I told you this was pointless. If you'd fucking listened to me in the first place –” 

“There's no point looking anymore, is there?” China sighed. “We've lost too many people.”

“We can leave it to our next selves,” Gilbert said. “It might do them some good.”

Feliciano choked and shook his head. “I'm sorry.”

“Feli, you didn't do anything wrong,” Ludwig touched his shoulder lightly, and Feliciano jerked away. 

“This is my fault, I didn't tell you...”

“Didn't tell us what?” Gilbert said. “What was there we didn't know?”

“I'm sorry, I needed to –” 

Feliciano opened his eyes and stared at the dark attic ceiling. He sat up and looked around. Where was he? 

Was everyone here? And breathing?

It was hard to see in the dark, but he counted the beds, then counted the people in them. They were all in the same places they'd been when he lay down with Ludwig to make him rest; Canada and America pressed together across from them; Francis and England together by the stairs, and Gilbert in the bed beside them. Japan, Russia and China were in the beds by the wall. 

Everyone was alive. Everyone was there.

It had just been a dream.

Feliciano disentangled himself from Ludwig with a little difficulty and got up to walk around the room again. He'd had no idea this was where the closet led. Ludwig had tried to show it to him earlier, but he'd refused to go up the stairs to rest – refused to leave the door, no matter how safe Ludwig thought it was.

Small wonder he'd been so confused waking up. He hadn't thought there was any room in this house he hadn't seen. Ludwig was so proud of himself; Feliciano wasn't sure what he felt yet. He didn't want to discourage him, but now that they were here, he didn't know what to do.

Regardless of where they should go next, however, there was one thing he could do. The kitchen was as he'd left it, potatoes cut and waiting, water on the cold stove. He started the fire in the cast iron stove and mixed the rice with some dried fruit. He took another look through the food sitting in the house as he waited for the water to boil and the skillet to heat up, completely unsure where it had come from but grateful for it now. It was simple food – foods that could keep for months or years – but it was something.

Outside, it was just starting to turn a misty grey with the first hint of dawn when everyone else began to wake up. China was the first to wander into the kitchen with a muffled noise of surprise and take a bowl, then France came for bowls for Gilbert and England. Feliciano moved the food and bowls to the table after that, so the last few could serve themselves as they got up. 

Without more excuse to stay in the kitchen, Feliciano cleaned up and joined the others to dish himself a bowl of the rice as well. He tucked himself against Ludwig's side and leaned into his hug for a long moment before picking at his food, much as America did.

“How did everyone sleep?” he asked instead. “The beds are all really nice, aren't they?”

“It was very nice.” Kiku sucked a little on his spoon with a content look. “This place is very comfortable, Doitsu.”

Ludwig looked down at the table with a smile. “As I said, it was already mostly done when I arrived here. I did not have much to do.”

America laughed. “This place is great! Are you really sure the monster can't get in here?”

“There's warding here that would be able to keep it out,” England said. “There's something on the walls that could do it, but I'd have to examine them more closely to be sure...”

“I don't know what's doing it,” Ludwig said, “But – I thought the monster was right on my heels and it doesn't look like it ever made it into the room behind me at all.”

“Would what you're seeing be able to do that?” Kiku asked.

“How should I know?” England snapped. “I don't know what it is yet, I can't tell you if the room is warded against it or not. It's not warding I know, I just know that it is one.” He stirred at his food absently until France elbowed him lightly. “I will eat when I am ready.”

“You haven't drank water, either,” Francis grumbled.

Feliciano got up. “I'll go get everyone a glass! I think there's enough mugs, or almost if a few of us share.”

“I can help.” Ludwig got up and followed him into the kitchen. He took a mug from Feliciano's hands as he noticed he was shaking. “You weren't with me when I woke up,” he said. “How long did you get to sleep for?”

“I slept fine,” Feliciano claimed. “There's coffee here too, I'll make some before we leave, okay? I just wanted to make sure everyone got enough to eat and I knew I should get up a little sooner than everyone else so I could make it.”

“You know you didn't have to go to the trouble,” Ludwig said. 

“I wanted to.” Feliciano took four of the glasses and walked them out to the table before Ludwig could worry at him more. He passed them around, passed Ludwig coming out with more and gathered the last two cups to sit down again as well. He pressed up against Ludwig again and closed his eyes, content everyone was okay, at least for now.

England pushed away his empty mug and leaned down the table to tap his fingers in front of America. “By the way, do you know anything about this monster you should be sharing with us now that we're stuck here?”

America stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“Like Tony – is this like him? You know I just know spirits, not aliens or anything like that.”

“What – why would you think it was like Tony?” America gaped at him. “They're nothing alike!”

“I don't know any spirits like this and Japan's stated it's not one of his, so that's the only thing left! They do share a resemblance.”

“Only if you think big black eyes and grey skin is a resemblence! It looks as much like Tony as a naked mole rat looks like a person! Are you asking me this because you think I dragged you here to meet it?” America looked around the table. “Do you really think this is my fault?”

“It was your idea to come,” England snapped.

“There was no requirement that we listen.” France shook his head. “I chose to come with you, Alfred. You didn't make anyone here come along. It was just an idea we agreed with.”

“It was my choice to follow you here,” Russia added. 

“Yes.” Canada glared at England. “I came here because I wanted to keep you company, America. You didn't make any of us do this; we could've said no.”

America lowered his head and nodded. England glared at France and subsided back into his seat, pushing his food away uneaten. Canada got up and took his own empty bowl and America and England's full ones back to the kitchen without a word.

“I am not upset I came with you,” China added. “I think it was a good idea, before we found out this monster was waiting here and we couldn't have known that it was here before hand.”

“I agree,” Ludwig added. “We knew as much as we could about this.”

“Yeah!” Feliciano shot a smile at America. “I think we should focus on what we do know about this place. I don't think we got a really good handle on everything that happened in the basement. There might've been something we didn't get the chance to see. We found keys everywhere else, we should look for another one down there again.”

“I thought I saw something on the floor of the tunnel,” Ludwig agreed. “I'd like to take another look.”

“The exit might be climbable,” Canada said. “I can see if I can get my rope up there to connect us to the ladder again.”

“That will only be of use if we don't get ambushed,” England grumbled. “You'd be done for if he threw a single fireball at you.”

“Well if you weren't so useless –” Canada began. 

America stood up and slapped a hand over his mouth; Feliciano got up quickly as well and took his and Ludwig's bowls back to the kitchen. He placed his full one by America's and England's and covered them with a towel. It would keep – he'd specifically made stuff that would keep – and hopefully they'd come back to it later when they had more of an appetite. 

The others finished and got ready to go. All of them agreed that it was best to go as a whole group in case of being trapped in the bottleneck again. Feliciano let Ludwig lead the way downstairs and into the tunnel. His back itched the whole way, but nothing happened. They reached the cave mouth in one piece. 

Canada, America, England, and France went down to the far end to watch Canada attempt to make the climb up the wall; China, Gilbert and Russia stayed in the sitting room to stand guard. Ludwig crouched in the spot where he'd tripped and cast over the ground for something.

“What are you looking for?” Japan asked. 

“I know I felt something on my ankle when I fell and couldn't get back up,” Ludwig said. “I'm not finding anything here that might've been that.”

“What do you mean?” Japan crouched to look as well, running his hands over the ground where Ludwig wasn't actively searching. “That is odd. The ground here is incredibly stable; it doesn't make sense that you would trip here. You're sure you felt something?”

“Yes!” Ludwig insisted.

“The house has been really weird like that,” Feliciano said. “Maybe you sprained it and it just took a minute to heal? What else would it be? A ghost helping the monster?” He laughed, but there'd never been anything there to find. He'd searched the ground before; even when Ludwig hadn't tripped, there was nothing to find. 

Ludwig shuddered at the thought and got up. “I don't believe it could be ghosts,” he said firmly. “They're not real.”

“Mm!” Feliciano hugged him tightly around the waist. 

“Ah, I found this?” Japan brushed something out of the dirt and stood up to present it to them. “I don't know what it is.”

“It looks like a piece of something?” Ludwig asked. He offered his hand and Kiku dropped it into his palm. 

Feliciano picked it up out of his hand and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe it off. “Oh, yeah! I'll clean it up more and we can take a look at it in better light upstairs.” He wrapped it in the cloth and tucked it into his pocket. 

There was a loud thump and a burst of French cursing from further down the tunnel. 

“Are you alright?” Japan called.

“Yes,” Canada replied in English. “I think I'm done here.” 

France and England started around the corner, Canada and America following behind them. America was wearing Canada's backpack and crossbow while his brother wiped dirt off his hands and arms. Canada jammed the rag in a pocket of his cargo pants before taking the backpack back from America. 

“You couldn't get anywhere?” Ludwig asked, dismayed.

“The walls are clay over rock and all of it is soaking wet from last night,” Canada said. “I don't have crampons to climb with; I couldn't even get ten feet off the ground.”

“Aww!” Feliciano hugged Canada. “At least you tried! We know it's not going to work, that's something.”

“Yes, I guess it is.” Canada hugged him back and continued out into the office. 

Feliciano bit his lip until they were all in the office, then suggested, “France, I thought you mentioned something about a box in the cell you couldn't get open? Do you want to try that now?”

“Oh, yeah!” Gilbert perked up and pointed to England. “I said we should get you to do it, it seemed like it'd be up your alley, yeah?”

“Me?” England edged away from Gilbert's hand. “That's ridiculous, what would I have to do with a box in this place?”

“I don't have a fucking clue, but you can at least take a look.”

“Please Inghilterra?” Feliciano said. “If it's a box with magic on it, nobody else will be able to get in.”

England gave him a wary look, but he nodded in response to the praise. “Very well, I'll give it a try.”

Gilbert and France went first down the hallway and into the room with the cell. Feliciano hung back as everyone went in ahead of him and when Ludwig noticed, he slowed as well. When they came into the room, most of the others were in the cell arguing about something to do with the room. Ludwig pulled him aside just outside the door of the cell to brush his hair out of his face and kiss him gently.

“You look worried,” he said. “Is everything alright?”

“No, but that's just this place.” Feliciano cupped his face. “I'm okay, really.”

“I know. You've just been very quiet.”

“Mm,” Feliciano pressed into his chest again and buried his face in his neck. He glanced past him, at the crowd of everyone inside the cell, and swallowed. He stepped back and pushed Ludwig roughly through the door before slamming it shut behind him. He took two large steps away from the bars and just – stared. 

Ludwig grabbed the door, his mouth open in shock. “Feli? Feliciano, what's wrong!?”

“I'm sorry,” Feliciano said. He backed up again, then walked sideways along the cell to come even with America walking towards the bars. “Why don't you tell them the truth? Do you think you're being noble, leaving it out?”

“Tell us what?” England snarled. He clenched his hands around the bars, hard enough his knuckles went white. “What the Hell do you think you're doing?”

“Tell them why we came here, America.” Feliciano clenched his hands and took a step towards the bars. “Tell them all!”

America stayed back and just shook his head, his face uncertain but too stubborn to say it.

Ludwig slammed his hands into the cell door. “Let us out of here! Don't be so stupid, why are you doing this? You need us! You can't do this alone!”

“Enough!You don't want me to stay with you!” Feliciano staggered backwards again, light-headed and giggling. “This is for the best, yeah? The monster's after me anyways, we – we have a deal, and you'll just – get in the way, like you always do. You'll be safe here, you just have to trust me. I can do this. I can finish what needs to be done without – without you.”

“You fucking whore!” England slammed his hands into the bars. “You set us up! What the Hell is this supposed to accomplish? There was never anything in the box, you lying little cheat! You'll be crawling back here like a coward, begging us to help!”

Feliciano shook his head. He scanned the rest of their faces, seeing only confusion and worry. Only America looked different. Feliciano quickly started for the door.

“Do you think they'll blame you more than they blamed me?” America asked. “Feli, you're so upset you're not even managing to lie.”

Feliciano stopped in the doorway and ran his fingers up the wall, a series of little drum beats. He forced his hand down flat. 

“Scold me if I come back here without a way out,” he said. “This will be the last time, I promise.”

Leaving the room was the hardest part. He shut the door behind himself and stood uncomfortably in the hallway as he fought down the urge to panic and cry. He didn't want to be alone, but nobody...

His phone rang loudly and he screamed in panic. He looked around, but Ludwig wasn't there. Nobody was. 

They were back in the cell and Ludwig hated him and didn't understand why he'd left him behind.

The phone rang again and Feliciano winced and pulled it out, checking the number and freezing until it rang again. He answered.

“C-ciao?” Feliciano said.

“Where the Hell are you!?” Lovino snapped. “I've been looking for you since midnight!”

“It's really you,” Feliciano breathed. “I'm sorry I worried you, fratello, I really really am.”

“It took me two hours to get someone to tell me you never made it back from the mansion and another half hour to drag the Spanish jackass – no, you don't get the phone, leave off you ass!” Feliciano heard a murmured response before Lovino's voice came back on the line. “Look, are you alright?”

Feliciano coughed to try and clear his throat. He couldn't start crying. Wouldn't. “I'm fine, big brother, it's okay. Look, can you just – cover for me at meetings tomorrow – today? I'm not – I may not make it back, so if you can cover for me tomorrow and the day after and... and after that, it'd be best, you know?” He choked and swallowed again. “Please can you do that for me?”

The phone was silent except for Lovino's breathing. Feliciano held the phone tightly to his ear, paranoid he might lose him before he could reply. He hadn't heard his voice in so long...

“No,” Lovino said.

“Lovino...” Feliciano bit his lip. 

“No, I'm not covering for you, because you're getting the fuck out of there. You aren't going to just get lost like that and expect...” Lovino's voice faded, crackled and came back, “cover your – going – out...”

The call died. Feliciano lowered the phone and laughed a little. He put it back in his pocket and wiped at the tears streaming down his face, laughing as he did so. He never thought he would hear Lovino's voice again. 

He ached to have someone with him, but he wouldn't do that to Ludwig and if he went back in the room they'd curse at him until he let them all out. He couldn't just ask for one of them to come; they'd put him first and die. He veered away from the path back upstairs and went down to the office and into the cave, to stare at the dawn again. He wished he could feel the sun, but that wasn't really an option. It was nice to see the storm breaking up, though. Had they ever seen the next day before? He couldn't remember.

He should search the cave, but he knew the second piece wasn't there. It was somewhere upstairs, but he wasn't ready to go look for it yet. He wondered if Canada actually had whatever it was he'd said he'd need to climb the wall back with his things at the meetingplace, but he doubted it. He couldn't likely talk him into bringing them next time –

There shouldn't have to be a next time. He scrubbed at his eyes and looked up again and squinted. Two silhouettes came into view, one holding a polearm of some kind. The first dropped to their knees and leaned far enough over the edge the second shouted “¡Cuidado!” and grabbed their shirt.

“Feliciano! We found you!”

Feliciano stared up at the cave mouth in disbelief. “Lovino?”

“Who the fuck do you think it is!?” Lovino sat back and jammed his hands on his knees. “Dammit Feli, we're getting you the fuck out of here!”

“How did you find me?” 

“Who the Hell am I, Feli? What's my fucking proper name?”

“Romano,” Feliciano mumbled.

“The full name!”

“Italia Romano.” Feliciano shook his head and backed up. “Lovino, you have to leave, please! You can't come in here!”

“The Hell I can't! Have you broken all the clocks?”

“How do you know all this? How did you know this was even here?”

“How the fuck do you think I know? I felt my heart stop, you know, it woke me the fuck up a couple damn times in a row! I sure as Hell wasn't getting any sleep! I'm already mixed up with whatever's got you trapped here and I'm sick of you trying to do it all alone!”

Feliciano took another step back. He wasn't handling this right. It was his fault Lovino was here; if he'd just done better, been more together, it wouldn't have gotten this far.

“Feliciano,” Antonio – because who else would be with his brother – called down to him. “With all the clocks inside broken, or most, we've got some of the others coming up after us. Austria and Hungría are getting some people together.”

Feliciano covered his ears. “Go home! Please, I can't – you can't be here, you're going to die. Please, oh God please go back! I'll get them out, I can do this – don't make me protect you too!”

Lovino surged forward again and Antonio grabbed his shirt. “I'm not leaving you!” 

He found the top of the ladder down, and Feliciano turned and fled. He ran back through the tunnel and into the basement to go upstairs. He wouldn't let his brother get killed; he just had to find the last part of the key, and get upstairs, and then... and then...

Enough. He'd deal with it when he had to.

He had no other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cooking and discussion of food  
> No other content warnings for chapter


	11. Chapter 11

“No, Lovino, let me go first will you please?” Antonio pried his hand off the ladder with a groan. He shot him a sweet smile and Lovino gave up and dropped back on his ass.

“Then get down there already!”

“Of course. Hold my axe?” He pointed and then tested the ropes and swung himself down. “You can pass it down to me after I'm on the ground.”

“Pass it down – you make it sound so shallow.” Lovino leaned over the edge again as soon as Antonio was a few rungs down. 

Antonio smiled up at him as he disappeared into shadow, feeling confidently for each rung as he went down. About halfway down the hole, he felt for the next rung, scraped dirt and felt his foot catch and moved to take another step. His foot skidded off the packed dirt and into open air. 

“Fuck!” He caught himself, barely, and brought his feet up against the wall at a better angle. They continued to slip each second he held on, but slower at least. “The ladder's gone halfway down,” he called up.

“Well how the fuck are we supposed to get down then!?” Lovino shouted.

“Gimme a second.” Antonio walked his hands down the ladder inch by inch until he was as far down as he dared. The drop was maybe five or six metres. He bit his lip and pushed off the wall and let go.

“Tonino!” Lovino roared. “The fuck are you doing!?”

Antonio rolled at the bottom and came back up to his feet, laughing weakly. “I'm okay, I'm fine. It's a bit of a drop at the bottom, but not bad. Come on down.”

“Can we get back out this way?”

Antonio shook his head. “Almost definitely not. Neither can they.”

“Fucking shit. Take your damn axe.”

Antonio stepped away from the opening as Lovino dropped it down to him, then went back over to retrieve it. He leaned it against the wall so he could hover by the base of the ladder as Lovino started down, his machine gun on its sling across his back. Lovino slowed as he came closer to the end of the ladder.

“You've got another four rungs... two now, you're okay,” Antonio said.

“Shut up, I can do this.”

“Yeah, I know, bonito.”

“Don't call me that.” Lovino felt for the next rung, but he was at the bottom. Antonio watched silently as he tried to do what Antonio had, to get further down and balance on the wall, but he wasn't finding any purchase for his feet.

“Go ahead and jump, Lovino, I'll catch you.”

“No – dammit.” He tried to push off the wall again and his hands began to slip. “Fuck!”

“Lovino!”

Lovino dropped and Antonio stepped up to catch him, staggering back as he did so. Lovino muffled a curse and clung to his chest, his face buried in Antonio's neck while he stopped shaking. Antonio stroked his back under the gun until Lovino took a deep breath and stood up straight and pulled his shirt back in order.

“Right. Let's go find my brother.”

Antonio pulled his axe off the wall and started up the cave. Lovino pulled his machine gun around to the front of his chest, holding the G36 as close as the 100-round barrel allowed. Antonio made an amused noise to himself. Lovino had said the monster was best kept at a distance, but it was still strange to have hauled out his old axe to storm a house built within the last century.

At the end of the cave, they came through a door into an office that doubled as a sitting room, then from there entered another hallway. They went straight to the far door and inside.

“Italy, that had better damn well be you,” England said.

“Would you shut up?” China moaned. “I am so tired of your whining.”

Antonio walked into the room to eye the cell with interest. “Well, what is this?” he said. “Such a nice display! Do not touch the animals, do not feed the animals, is that it?”

“Antoine!” François called out to him. “Bonjour! You look like you enjoyed a mudpack this morning. How did you find the cave?”

“I don't care how he got in, we need him to let us out!” Ludwig snapped.

“Oh dear, sorry,” Antonio said, but he didn't move, smirking at England still. Lovino was at the cell door picking the lock. “I was admiring the view and thinking it wasn't usually the thing to be done, letting creatures out of cages.” 

“You would know that, wouldn't you?” England snarled.

“If you can't stop yelling, beau, can you please stop speaking?” François said tiredly. 

England turned around and slapped him. “You don't get to tell me what to fucking do! If you'd gotten the box out of the damn cell, we wouldn't have fallen for the damn trick!”

François took the slap and went still; so did everyone else for a breath. Ludwig and Japan were staring but dead silent, too shocked to speak.

“Whose trick?” Antonio asked, taking a step towards the cell to draw England's – and everyone else's – attention to him instead.

“Who do you think?” England turned and gestured widely. “Do you see the Kingdom of Venice in here with us?”

Lovino had the door open in another second and grabbed Ludwig's shirt when he rushed out.

“You're coming with us,” Lovino said. “Gilbert too. Inghilterra, stay down here and shut up.”

“Where are we going?” Gilbert hurried out the door, one hand on his sword. Ludwig reluctantly waited, staring at the door.

“What should the rest of us do?” America called.

“Search the rest of the downstairs and up,” Antonio suggested. “Lovino thinks he knows where Feliciano is going, but if we're wrong that's the best we can do.”

Lovino started out the door at a half-jog, Ludwig at his heels. Gilbert waited and kept pace with Antonio as Ludwig directed Lovino upstairs.

“How does he know all this?” Gilbert asked. 

“I don't know,” Antonio shrugged. “He said it was like dreams he'd had, over and over again. It's not complete, but he found this cave from them and he knew Feli would be there when he did.”

“Does he think Feli's in danger?”

Antonio raised an eyebrow at him. “Worse than the rest of you.”

Gilbert looked forward again and sped up.

IIII 

It seemed more likely that Feliciano would find the piece he needed on the second floor than on the first. He slowed down as he came up the stairs. It wasn't in the first room, definitely not. He glanced in the second one on the back hallway, and that one, too, wasn't it. He came back to the centre hallway and felt certain there wasn't anything he needed along that half of the house, or at least pretty sure. 

He went into the room with the fireplace again and swallowed nervously, wishing he didn't have to keep coming back here. The back wall made him flinch; so did the table. He looked around again and realized with a hazy nod that what he needed wasn't in here either.

That left the room on the front wall, then. He stopped outside the door. Was the monster in here yet or not? He couldn't remember. It would be later, certainly, but was it there now? The longer he waited, the more sure he was that it would be there. 

He could handle it. He didn't have to stand here, waiting. He didn't need China and Japan and Russia to keep himself safe, he'd done this on his own before. 

Ludwig was going to make himself sick with worry about him. He'd be scared and angry – but he'd be okay, in a little bit. Once they were safe. He could curl up against his chest and go back to the safe room and lay in bed together and take however long they needed to calm down again. 

He needed the last part of the key to do that.

Feliciano opened the door and went inside, looking rapidly around for any sign of the monster. It wasn't there. He also couldn't think of where he'd have put the other piece of the key. The room had a lot of options with fabric – he preferred those hiding places – but he couldn't remember if it was under the rug or in one of the chairs. He knew he'd done that before, but had he done it this time?

He couldn't remember. 

He walked to the window looking down over the front of the house and wished he could see Lovino – see him leaving, staying safe. Lovino didn't ignore him, not when he knew he was making sense. He trusted Feliciano to understand situations like this, usually. Most of the time. He had to know he couldn't help. Lovino could make things so much worse if he was here with him. What if the monster...

The back of his neck tingled with the heat of the room.

Feliciano turned in time to see the monster turn in midair and drop heavily to the ground. It was too large to have done that, it filled the space from floor to ceiling between him and the door. Feliciano gasped and pressed his back hard into the wall.

“No, no!” He tore his hand off the windowsill and went for a knife, but he wasn't ready, he just wasn't. “Please, I don't want to fight!”

IIII 

Lovino ran up to the second floor and touched each doorhandle as he came to it. Antonio didn't ask, nor Ludwig, but Gilbert did.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding out if the monster's here.”

“How does the door handle help with that?” Gilbert asked.

Lovino glared at him and elbowed past him to get to the front of the house, turning immediately to his right. “The monster makes the room cold when it shows up.”

“What, really?”

Lovino hissed at him and stalked back over to the left, checking the door by the stairs. “Did I ask for a fucking vote!?” He turned and grabbed the other doorhandle, then jerked back with a hiss: it was cold enough to hurt. “Tonino! You go first, yeah?”

“Of course,” Antonio braced himself in front of the door. Gilbert didn't ask, but stepped up and then slammed the door open, twisting out of the way. A broad grey back loomed in front of the doorway and Lovino choked as Antonio rushed it anyways, without even a flinch. The monster vanished before he got there and a knife fell to the ground from somewhere up near the ceiling. Lovino cursed and darted inside, finding his brother in a second and rushing to his side.

“Feli! Feliciano! Shit, what did you do that for?” he cried.

Feliciano gasped and draped his arms around his shoulders. “Lovino,” he moaned. “Why didn't you listen to me?”

Lovino looked him over as best he could, alarmed to see that one of his arms was limp and likely broken. There was a crumpled section of wall and bloodstains, both on the drywall and his brother's shirt. Feliciano's legs went out from under him and his whole weight hung off Lovino's neck. Lovino wrapped his arms around his brother to hold him up.

“You need me here,” Lovino insisted. “It's okay, we're gonna be okay. What's hurt? Is it just your shoulder? Feli, please.”

“I needed you...” Feliciano hiccoughed and looked up and flinched a little. “I'm okay. Please don't let me sleep, please, I need... I can't. When I wake up, I'll be...”

His head dropped to Lovino's shoulder. Lovino cursed and knelt, laying him down on the floor with shaking hands. 

“Feli? Feli!” Ludwig shrieked. 

“Shut up!” Lovino hollered back. He tried to get a hand down to check his pulse, but Gilbert beat him to it, pushing him far enough out of the way he could get his – admittedly, much steadier – hand into place.

“He's fine,” Gilbert said after a moment. “He's just unconscious. He should be okay, but if we can get little France to take a look at him soon that'll be best.” Gilbert looked over at him, then back to his brother and waved. “Ludwig, carry him back to the safe room and take Lovino with you. Me 'n Antonio will go gather the others. Alright?”

“Jawohl!” Ludwig said, then blushed a little. He took his brother's place and picked Feliciano up. Lovino thought to object, but saw quickly why Gilbert had dispensed with them that way: Ludwig had no weapons on him. Lovino braced his machine gun by his chest, rather intimidated by what he'd seen. That monster was a lot bigger than he'd thought it was.

He followed Ludwig out into the hallways anyways, and back to the first door by the top of the stairs. Lovino pushed the door open and checked the room before he let him come inside.

“What's in here?” he asked.

“A safe place. Can you open the metal door?”

Lovino stared at it for a second, but went and did so. He startled at the staircase just inside.

“What the Hell.” He glanced at Ludwig and scowled. “You'd better not drop him. Let me check upstairs first.”

“You don't have to...” Ludwig began, the stopped. “Go ahead.”

Lovino went up the stairs quickly and muffled at curse once he got to the top. The place was huge! He did a quick check, then came back down and glared at him. “What the Hell is that? I had no idea it was here!”

“You haven't – Nevermind. Follow behind me, please.”

“If you drop my brother, I will hurt you,” Lovino muttered, although it had no weight behind it. Ludwig went up the stairs steadily and took Feliciano to the first bed by the entrance and laid him down. 

“What is this place?” Lovino asked. He sat down next to his brother and took his hand. When Ludwig didn't answer, he asked instead, “Is there any first aid stuff?”

That got a response, and Ludwig quickly brought over bandages and a cloth to start cleaning up the blood on Feliciano's arm. Once he was done, Ludwig left again with the cloth. Lovino stroked his brother's hair with a heavy sigh.

“You need to wake up, you know,” he said softly. “I'm not your boyfriend's babysitter. Not for longer than I have to be. One's my limit.”

Feliciano didn't reply. Lovino hadn't expected it, but he really hoped Feliciano was okay again soon. 

He had to be.

The rest of the Nations trickled into the room over the next half hour. Lovino ignored most of them, answering any questions as briefly as possible and ignoring most, staying by his brother's side until everyone was back and Antonio came over and touched his shoulder.

“You need to come explain to everyone else what you told me, please? They need to know why we're here.” He squeezed his shoulder, and Lovino relaxed with a sigh. “You'll hear if he wakes up.”

“Yeah, fine,” Lovino got up and walked over to the table with him, his hands on his hips. “What do you jerks want to know?”

“How did you find us?” China asked. “This feels oddly convenient, when you arrived.”

“It's not convenient,” Lovino snapped. “I woke up around midnight because my heart stopped and I couldn't breathe. It happened three or four times in a row; I'd pass out, wake up in agony, then pass out again. I finally managed to wake Antonio up and he got me out of bed. Once I could think straight again, I had this mess of memories of the house which I've never fucking been to before. I got scared and dragged Antonio with me to come find you.” He raked a hand through his hair. “We were just – walking in circles until I got a call through to Feliciano. We talked, I lost the signal and got an impression of where he was and found the cave.”

“What kind of memories do you have of this place?” America turned in Canada's arms to face him. “How did you know it was this house?”

“You hadn't come back and I'd never seen it before,” Lovino snapped.

“What were they memories of, though?” America repeated.

“Did you see us die?” Japan cut in.

“Feliciano knows a surprising amount about the house as well,” Russia said. “He's been very on top of things.”

“He's not,” Ludwig objected. “He's extremely worried and he's making rash and dangerous decisions.”

“He's trying to protect you,” Lovino said. “He's never at his best when people he cares about are in danger.”

“Why is he trying to protect us by lying?” England snapped. “If he knows what's going on, why doesn't he just tell us?”

“He knew how to kill the monster quickly,” Gilbert said abruptly. “He told us in the basement, and then he did it to protect himself here.”

“If you have his memories, why don't you tell us what they are?” England said. He moved to get up, only to be pulled back into his seat by François. England pushed his boyfriend's hand off his shoulder, but didn't try to get up again. “What do you know that you think we don't?”

“He has reasons not to tell you.” Lovino glared back at England. “You can ask him about this when he can tell you himself.” 

The former Empire held his eyes for another minute, until China interrupted.

“What do you think is good enough reason not to tell us something we might need to know?”

Lovino rolled his eyes and turned away. He looked at his brother and saw his brother lying curled up on his side and staring back. Lovino cursed under his breath and ran to his side.

“Feli? Feli!”

“Lovino,” Feliciano whispered. “Ciao.”

“You're up.” Lovino switched to Italian without another thought. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” Feliciano looked around and frowned past him. “Sir...” he began, then cut himself off and smiled nervously. “You're here?”

Lovino glanced at Ludwig, then back to Feliciano in worry.

“Yes, I'm here,” Ludwig said. “Are you okay, Feli?”

“Yes sir,” Feli said.

“I think he needs privacy,” Lovino said quickly. “You remember Ludwig, right Feli?”

“Oh, yes,” Feliciano said worriedly. “Of course.”

“Let's go have you wash up, alright? It's not far.” Lovino pulled him up to his feet again and shot a glare at Ludwig, daring him to mention that Feli was having trouble. If the young Nation dared to object, Lovino was going to be furious with him. Ludwig said nothing, however, and simply moved out of the way.

“Are you not going to answer questions now then?” Russia asked.

Lovino paused by the table of other Nations and glared at them all. “No, we're not. You can fucking wait.”

“Lovino!” Feliciano whispered.

“Ignore them,” Lovino said. He pushed open the bathroom door and shut it behind himself, wishing it had a lock. He went to the back bathtub and started it filling. “Your shirt's still bloody, I can wash it in the other bath while you wash, okay?”

“Where are we?” Feliciano asked softly. “I think... I can't remember how we got here very well.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Lovino sighed and dug his fingers into his hair. “Where do I begin...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for abusive FACE family dynamics  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	12. Chapter 12

There was two kinds of memories Feliciano had clear at the moment: memories from the beginning of the century before this one, and the first chain of events that had led him to where he was right now. He couldn't put the rest in order, but the first time around... those ones were clear.

He was up to his neck in the bath, listening to the soft splashes as Lovino washed his clothes for him across the room, feeling a mix of terror and comfort that, for the moment, he was in a very clear kind of space. Curtain. Bathtub. Toilet. Sink. Window. This place was new, and so was Lovino. He held his breath and slipped his head under the water.

On the inside of his eyes, the recent past was clearer than the last few decades.

They'd come to the mansion the first time, all together – all ten of them. No groups, just all of them at once. It should've been harder to lose track of each other, starting like that, but they'd forgotten Japan had come at all.

Not until Feliciano had found him again, dying in the piano room.

“Honda!”

Japan's eyes fluttered open and didn't focus. Feliciano dropped to his knees and touched his chest, trying to see, to feel out what was damaged. He looked at his face again and watched blood bubble a little at the corner of Japan's mouth with each breath. 

“L-let me get you some bandages, okay?” Feliciano whispered. He tried to move his jacket – if it was just one lung, if he could just rest a little longer he could stop the bleeding, long enough he could heal. They weren't healing that slowly, just more than usual, he just had to survive until Feliciano had energy again to heal him. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten Japan had come at all...

“Feliciano...” Japan said softly.

Feli smiled up at him. “What is it?”

“I know you're out of bandages.”

Feliciano closed his eyes. He took his hands off Japan's coat, having seen enough. “You... you're wrong,” he said. “You're going to be okay, you j-just need to believe me. Please.”

“It's okay.” Japan sighed, and coughed, his body shuddering in pain. “I know you all forgot I came. You need to focus on getting out.”

“I don't want to leave you again.” Feliciano squeezed his shoulder. “You deserve better than that, than dy – being left alone.”

Japan closed his eyes and nodded. “Then can you please hand me my short sword.”

Feliciano flinched and pushed his head back out of the bath, wiping the water away from his eyes – escaping the memory.

That memory, at least.

By dusk, they'd been split up again. Feliciano had been looking for Russia and France and China with Gilbert while Ludwig recovered from getting his shoulder broken and dislocated in the closet – the closet on the second floor. America and Canada had been guarding the room while England worked on the magic in the house, his temper frayed. 

Feli and Gilbert had found the three they were looking for, at least, in the room with the fireplace. Feliciano had been able to smell the blood outside the door. They'd dragged themselves up against the back wall, somehow, although France was already almost gone. He'd been less lucky than Ludwig, his shoulder crushed and bleeding freely. Feliciano felt numb surprise he'd survived it at all; he wondered if he had a punctured lung. China had his shirt off and pressed to his stomach, but he wasn't able to hold it tight enough to stop the flow of blood. Russia's legs were crushed, but he was bleeding less than the other two.

Feliciano could be wrong, of course. If Russia was bleeding internally, it could kill him, but honestly it didn't matter. Russia wasn't going anywhere regardless.

“Ah, Feliciano,” France whispered. “It's good to... see you.”

Feliciano glanced at Gilbert and then dropped to his knees so he didn't have to hold himself up. “I'm sorry. We should've found you sooner. You don't...”

“Ah, bello – both of you – I am just glad to see you again.” 

“We're happy to see you,” China said. “You need to go and focus on getting out.”

“You don't deserve to die alone,” Feliciano said.

“We're not alone.” Russia smiled.

“I don't want to...” Feliciano swallowed hard as France went very still, not quite gone but he wasn't going to open his eyes again. “Please. I'm so sorry.”

“Just go!” Yao gestured to the door roughly and Feliciano nodded stiffly. He knew there wasn't any point in staying; he couldn't do anything for them. China's body sagged again, the flow of blood slowing – heartbeat giving out, as it ran out of blood. He knew the clinical signs of death. They all did. 

Gilbert came back to him and took his arm to tow him out the door. Feliciano went, too blinded by tears to see where he was going.

It didn't help, leaving them. He stared at his hands under the water and he looked towards the upper floors as if he could see the rooms through the walls between him and them.

Could see the top floor, and the two beds in the guest room there, and America telling them England was busy and sending Gilbert and Ludwig to the stairs down even as Feliciano forced him to let him through the door.

Could see England on the bed, with no chance he was still asleep, not with his throat torn open, his lower jaw ripped away with it. See the blood on the floor and the walls, where they must have gone down, and Canada in bed, much more peaceful except for the hollow dent in his temple and his breathing painfully slow and getting slower. Feliciano's hands itched, knowing that he could heal him, could do something for him at least, if he had even the least amount of energy left, but it was so long gone he could do nothing more than look at America and cry.

“Please, come with us.”

“You'll be fine without me,” America reassured him, laughing – bright, high, fake.

Feliciano took his hand. “I don't want to lose you, Alfred. Please.”

“I can't leave them. If Mattie wakes up –” America cut himself off.

“Alfred...” Feliciano pulled his hand towards the door.

America pulled him back and put his other hand over Feliciano's. “Look, they can't hear me, or see me anymore – but I know I'm here. I want to stay with them, until this is over. They're too important to me, I can't leave them here, okay? You get that, right?”

Feliciano nodded. He understood. He really did. He threw his arms around America and hugged him tightly back, even as he trembled with fatigue.

“We'll come back for you,” Feliciano promised, “once we're out and we've dealt with it all, so you have to – you have to hold on until we get here. Okay?”

“I promise.” America laughed again. “You've got my word. Go on, go keep up with Gilbert and Ludwig okay? Keep them safe for me.”

Feliciano nodded, and he wiped tears off his face, his hands blurred in the bath. He couldn't really see. Still couldn't. Didn't want to see.

Didn't want to see Ludwig half-carrying Gilbert back into the basement, into the square room, for Gilbert to hand him the key to the front door. 

“You said you were just going to look around!” Feliciano shouted.

“We looked. It was there.” Gilbert spat blood onto the floor and sank down the wall to sit on the floor. “We didn't want you to worry.”

“You lied to me!” Feliciano slapped him across the face. Gilbert didn't even flinch. Ludwig sat heavily beside his brother and leaned on his knees, breathing hard. “Why did you go back?” 

“We've been lying to each other the entire time,” Ludwig said. “You both lied to me.”

“It wasn't a big deal,” Gilbert said. He looked back at his brother calmly. “Someone had to do it. We made it back to you; that's what counts, isn't it?”

Gilbert was sinking further down the wall, too weak to hold himself up. He had one arm over his stomach that suggested what was killing him, slowly and inexorably bleeding to death inside. 

Ludwig was more obvious. One leg was soaked in blood. Feliciano crawled to kneel between them, cupping Ludwig's face in his hands.

“Don't leave me,” Feliciano begged. “You promised. You promised you'd stay with me. Please.”

“I did.” Ludwig leaned into his hand. “I'm sorry.”

“I can't, not without you, not without both of you. Don't leave me alone.”

“Never gonna leave you for good,” Gilbert mumbled. “I'm just... scouting ahead, okay?”

“Gilbert...” Feliciano whispered. He felt Ludwig's head lean heavily into his hands and gasped. He started to cry and couldn't stop. 

“Feli?” Lovino asked.

Feliciano looked up from the bath and held out one hand to Lovino. His brother sank down beside the bath and squeezed it tightly, hugging his head into his shoulder. Feli clung to him, his head pressed to where he could hear his heartbeat.

He'd never been able to keep them all alive. He lost track of someone, or let them go alone; couldn't keep his strength up, couldn't get them to listen to him.

How many more times did this have to happen?

How many more people would die?

How much longer until he could get them all out?

“Are you alright?”

Feliciano sniffled and shook his head weakly. 

“We're gonna get everyone out,” Lovino said. “It'll be okay. You're not alone.”

“I don't know how to keep you safe,” Feliciano whispered.

“You don't have to.” Lovino kissed his forehead. “I know what we're dealing with. Just relax, okay? We'll work on the problems together once you're feeling better.”

Feliciano lifted his head and smiled at him politely. Lovino gave him a worried look back, but stubbornly just hung up his clothes and went to get a yukata off the back of the door. Feliciano looked at his hands again, feeling sick. He didn't think Lovino understood the full problem. 

He'd protect his brother from that as long as he could.

IIII

Alfred covered his ears, but Yao was much too loud to drown out that way.

“You can put yourself back in your bed if you insist on doing that out here! Can you not wait another hour for Yìdàlì to come back out?”

“You can hide under the covers if you can't stand to look at me.” Arthur held his bowl of heroin over the lit candle, the rest of the kit laid out on the table.

Yao paced back into the kitchen and out again before he started to clean up the dishes loudly.

“Can you really not wait that long?” Francis asked gently.

“He's a grown man. Yao doesn't need me to coddle him.”

“Can we please focus on the situation at hand?” Ludwig said. He was also staring at Arthur's kit, but he'd crossed his arms and simply pushed his chair back from the table.

“We can't do anything else until we know more of what it appears Italy can't even tell us anymore,” Arthur replied. “Until we can, I might as well get this out of the way.”

Ludwig turned away in furious silence. Alfred stared at his hands. If the choice was between Arthur being high or in withdrawal, he much preferred the former. Besides, if he was at his peak now, with Francis there to intervene, it was much better than if he were peaking when Francis wasn't. 

Before anything got worse, Romano came out of the bathroom with Feliciano wrapped in one of the robes from the back of the door. Ludwig got up and walked over to him immediately, only to halt as Feli gave him a wary look.

“Feliciano,” Ludwig said cautiously. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, sir. I'm sorry it took me so long to clean up.”

“It's fine. You're not a problem.”

Romano wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders. “If you guys still need more answers, I can try to answer based on what I know. I know it's going to be hard to move on if you don't.”

“There's a few things we can do while we wait for Italy to be ready to answer,” Arthur said. He rolled up the cotton ball between his fingers as he waited. “We don't need to get bad information because we made you hurry.”

Yao slammed a pot into the counter in the kitchen, loud enough Alfred and Feli both flinched. Arthur shot the kitchen an angry look. 

“We have a few things we can work on now,” he continued. “Like the metal piece Italy found downstairs and that box.”

“Are you going to be of any use with it as you are now?” Yao snapped. 

“I can do magic just fine when I am high.” He blew out the candle and Alfred turned away.

“Well, if you're so fine with your magic perhaps you should seek out the other places you made note of for a second look as well.”

“There's too many for that. I could try to start a list, but that happened so often in here they're blurring together. There's no way to investigate them all unless I go through the house room by room.” Arthur's voice turned coy. “If you feel I will be more of a liability than a help, I can stay behind to cook.”

“I trust your judgement that you will be able to help us,” Kiku interjected smoothly. “If we go and look again you can start to adjust the priority of at least a few rooms.”

“I will stay and cook,” Yao said firmly. “Făguó can join me. Between us, we will have lunch waiting for you when you get back.”

“Do you need a hand with that?” Kiku asked, sitting down by Arthur's side.

“Hold the tie, please?”

Alfred got up from the table. Mattie came over and hugged him loosely to his chest. Alfred pressed his face into his neck for a moment, then turned around to look at everyone else again. “We can't let anyone go in such a small group. I can go with you two, but we should have someone with a sword come as well? Vanya, would you? You and Honda fight together well, and then I'll be there as someone with a longer range.”

“I would be happy to accompany you,” Ivan said. “It is good to spend time with old friends.”

Alfred grinned happily back at him, relieved that he'd agreed. He stopped smiling as Arthur snorted audibly and began to pack up his kit with loose-limbed grace. Kiku went back to his bed to pick up his sword before going to stand by the stairway down. Arthur did the same – trading his opium kit for his satchel with grimoire and other magical tools. 

Alfred didn't have to pick up anything, nor did Ivan, and Alfred took charge of dropping the stairs down, so he could help Arthur get down after. As soon as Arthur was on the same level with him he leaned heavily into Alfred's chest. Alfred froze, his arms automatically going to Arthur's back even as his heart raced in his chest. Kiku came down and stepped aside, then Ivan.

Mattie came down after him.

“Arthur,” Mattie said firmly. “You're not that high.”

Arthur straightened and gave Mattie a cross look. “I was thanking him for looking out for me.”

“You know exactly what you were doing.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I thought you said you didn't like someone making your decisions for you, Alfred?”

“That's not what he's doing,” Alfred said. He walked over to kiss Mattie on the cheek and went out into the bedroom, grateful Mattie had decided to come. Mattie grabbed his hand as he went by and walked with him to the far door.

“Shast,” Ivan called.

Alfred stopped and waited by the door as he'd asked, wrapping his arms under Mattie's backpack. Ivan came up with a vague expression on his face.

“What is it?” Alfred asked, automatically in Russian.

“Angliya and Yaponiya are arguing about where we should go first. Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, Ivan, really.” Alfred waved lightly at him. “It's not a big deal.”

“It is not good that Angliya has forgotten you made him stop.”

Alfred stared him down. “I'm letting him forget, Ivan. We need him more than I need to pick little fights all the time.”

Mattie made a disagreeing noise he quickly silenced. Alfred sighed.

“It's not like we have the time for him to take any advantage of it, okay?”

Ivan shrugged idly. “I do not trust Velikobritaniya to have healthy priorities.” 

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Okay, really, he doesn't use that name anymore, he's the UK if you're going to get formal here, not Great Britain.”

“Regardless.” Ivan hid a small smile. “If you would not wish to remind him, I will do so.”

“You can get in the line, then, after Yao and Mattie, but thanks for the offer.”

Ivan nodded and Mattie sighed against his neck before turning his face up to kiss him on the lips. “I won't attack Arthur unless you ask me to, Alfred, you know that,” Mattie said.

Alfred cupped his face and kissed him again. 

“We do not have time for you two to snog like that,” Arthur snapped. “We're going upstairs.”

Alfred stepped back from the door and let Arthur stalk past, Kiku on his heels and looking no happier than the rest of them. Mattie cupped Alfred's back and kissed his cheek again before taking his hand and walking out the door after Arthur. Alfred followed him quietly and tried to focus on being okay.

Fortunately for his mood, Arthur was quick. Kiku tried to stop him on the next floor up only to be ignored as Arthur went all the way to the top floor. 

“Arthur,” Kiku snapped. “Are you certain you do not need to look at this floor?”

“Yes.” 

Alfred gave Kiku an apologetic look. “He gets like this.”

“I recall,” Kiku said crossly. “He is impossible. He has been to both floors.”

“He's more sensitive to magic when he's at the peak of an opiate high,” Alfred said carefully. “Things he missed upstairs will be more clear when he's able to focus that strongly.”

“Just be grateful he's taking off on his own,” Mattie said softly. “He's insufferable when he's like this; you'll wish he was silent again once he starts talking.”

For Alfred, the top floor was all new anyways. The first room held two beds and a sitting area, and Arthur didn't stay there long. The second room, Arthur halted in the middle staring at a red chair against the back wall, ignoring the much larger sitting area at the front of the room and the shelves and closet at the back.

“What is it?” Alfred asked.

“I think I know this chair.”

“I've never seen it before,” Alfred answered. He ignored the rather rude noises Ivan and Kiku made.

“No, of course not.” Arthur glanced back at him and shot Ivan a cross look. “You never got the chance to see the original.”

“The original?”

Arthur gestured at the chair. “It's someone's crude attempt to replicate it. It was cursed.”

Alfred walked closer and consided taking a look at the spellwork himself, then thought better of it. With nothing to compare it to, the spellwork would be meaningless and he'd be inviting the worst if he tried. “So don't touch it, then?”

“No,” Arthur said simply. “Although I suppose Russia could if he wished, but there's no reason to waste our time here.”

“There's nothing else of note in here?” Kiku asked. He walked to the far corner and pulled out the bookcase a little. “Are you still in there, little one?”

Alfred walked over. “What is that, Honda?” He joined Ivan in staring past Kiku, then crouched and grinned at the round little creature. “Huh! What is it?”

“It's a mochi,” Kiku explained. He held his hand out to the creature, but it only ducked further back into its hole.

“Awww, its scared!” Alfred shooed his hand away. “Give it some room.”

“I'm not sure we can get it to leave that space,” Kiku said. “It's been hiding there all this time.”

“Well that sucks! Is it stuck here too?”

“I don't know. It's the only living thing I've seen other than us.”

“Weird.” Alfred tried to make a coaxing noise at the creature and got it to turn around to face him. 

“Unless you think the creature is hiding something important, I've seen enough of this room to carry on,” Arthur grumbled.

“Very well,” Kiku said. He straightened and walked away. “We can go.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said. His footsteps left the room, Kiku's on his heels. Mattie leaned over the bookcase.

“You suspect something,” Mattie said.

“It's a really regular hole,” Alfred said. He held his hand closer with more of a coaxing noise. The mochi made a sound almost like a purr and leaned over to rub its smooth side against his hand. Alfred scratched it and it moved into his touch, leaning out of the hole enough Alfred could see some kind of structure behind it. “Mattie, take a look?”

He heard Mattie rustle in his backpack, but before he got it out Arthur shouted back at them “Would you two catch up already?” The mochi panicked and retreated into its hole again.

Mattie sighed. “We can try again later.”

“Yeah,” Alfred got up with a groan. “Its not going anywhere.”

He started out of the room behind Mattie, staring back at the bookcase until he crossed the threshold. He had a feeling that was important. It wasn't magic, just a hunch, but he wasn't often wrong about these kinds of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for flashbacks to multiple graphic character deaths  
> Warning for heroin use  
> Warning for abusive FACE family dynamics  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	13. Chapter 13

The cell in the basement fortunately didn't close itself without help, so when they arrived, it was the work of a minute for Alfred to retrieve the box from inside and haul it back out to where Arthur could use his magic on it. He stepped back and rubbed his arms, feeling the sense of Arthur touching him in all the places he'd held the box.

He knew it wasn't a kind of touch Arthur still had access to, but it wasn't a nice feeling all the same.

Arthur approached the box and smiled, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “This is my work, yes. That's interesting. I don't know how this much power of mine got in here.”

“We were in the cell with this the whole time,” Kiku asked. “Couldn't you have done something with it then?”

Arthur turned narrowed eyes on Kiku. “I had other concerns.”

“Da,” Russia said. “You expressed many of them regarding Italiya's parentage and dress.”

“Shut up.” Arthur closed his eyes and swept his hands over the box. The spell snapped with a sputter of sparks. A second spell activated immediately after and Alfred flinched away from it involuntarily. A translucent human figure appeared by the door and Alfred jerked back from that, too.

“Relax,” Arthur groaned. “It's a recording.”

“A recording that looks like a ghost!” Alfred objected. 

“Be quiet, please!” Kiku said.

“And... it!” The image – a replica of Arthur – stabilized, as well as its voice. “My... my future self who is watching this! I cannot explain much, but if by any chance Italy dies, take his journal – find it, if need be! You will get his memories as well as my life! Go back in time, without fail –” The image shattered and reformed. “– save him!” 

“What was that?” Alfred asked.

“A message.” Arthur rubbed his mouth, staring at the space it had been in. “That's interesting.”

“Da,” Ivan pulled open the box and began to look through it. “We have a letter and a pocketwatch inside this.”

“Let me see the letter?” Kiku asked. Ivan handed it over without question.

Arthur took the watch from Ivan's hand and eyed it a moment before he dropped it to the ground and smashed it under his heel.

“Arthur, no!” Alfred shouted. “What did you do that for? We don't need to –”

Alfred felt the bottom of his stomach drop and the image of another room overlaid the one he was in. It was the room upstairs on the second floor, at the front of the mansion – the one opposite Ludwig's safe room, where Feliciano had lost his memory.

In the vision, the monster was hunched over in the room, barely fitting in the space from floor to ceiling. Around the room was most of the Nations who'd started out in the house, in various states of injury. Gilbert's sword lay broken on the ground, the blade sheared off near the hilt. Alfred could see himself leaning heavily on a chair with his guns on the ground, surrounded by shells.

The only Nation still standing and together was Feliciano, facing the monster with a grim look on his face. Something about the expression took Alfred aback, but he couldn't place it.

Amerika?” Kiku asked

Alfred started and looked at the Kiku in the room, but he was across the room drifting in and out of consciousness. To his left was a second Kiku, watching the scene with the same disbelief Alfred felt.

“You can hear me?” Kiku asked.

“Yes, I'm here too.” Alfred said. “I – I think this is another memory. Do you think so?”

“I believe so,” Kiku said carefully. “Quiet?”

“Yeah.” Alfred turned to watch Feliciano again. He blinked and almost missed it when Feli threw his knife; the monster jerked back and vanished, Feli's knife falling to the ground where it had been. As the monster vanished, Feli swayed in place and smiled beautifully. 

“I did it,” he said and giggled. “I did it. You're all okay. Nobody – nobody's dying, right? Japan – he's breathing? And Canada?”

“Feliciano,” Ludwig called. He struggled to his feet, as did Gilbert, behind him, but even as he gained his feet Feliciano slumped to the floor. Ludwig surged forward and fell to his knees beside him. “Why didn't you move?” he cried. “Feli...”

“I... I had to. I had to protect you all.”

“Why? Why would you have to do it all yourself?” Ludwig was stroking his face, over and over, and Alfred bit his lip, worried by how limp Feliciano was.

“Shhh, Ludwig, it's okay.” Feli smiled again, still eerily calm. “I'm sorry Ludwig, but I lied to you. I needed you to... to believe me. To believe I'd never been here before either, which – we were. And it didn't go well. It didn't go well at all.”

Gilbert leaned on Ludwig's shoulder to drop to the floor as well. “What the Hell does that mean, Venedig?!”

“This – it's the second time,” Feliciano swallowed. “I had no idea what to do. I was useless last time. I had to get you all out.”

“You had to get us out – we need to all get out,” Ludwig pleaded. “I need you to get out, too.”

“It'll be okay.” Feliciano's hand dropped away from Ludwig's face and Alfred swallowed, seeing where this was going already. 

“You just – you need a place to rest,” Ludwig insisted. “Somewhere we can all recover. Then you could – you'd get your energy back. You could heal yourself. If we could just... It would make it easier to get out.”

“Yes,” Feliciano beamed. “You could make us a place.” He closed his eyes. “We'd have beds for all of us, and – and biiig tables. And room to cook, and have a hot bath. It'd make it all better. We'd have everything we needed.”

“Just until we could get out,” Ludwig choked on the words. “You have to... you have to stay with us, so you can see it. So I can make it for you. Feli, please.”

“I'm so sorry,” Feliciano's voice wavered. “I didn't mean to break my promise, but... you made it back, didn't you? So it's okay...”

“Feli, stay awake – Feli, please, don't go, don't...”

Feliciano went limp in his arms, and Alfred moved a little close to Kiku to his left.

“Ludwig,” Gilbert slid his arm around his brother's back. “He's gone.”

“You can't die,” Ludwig shouted. “Feli, Feliciano, please. He can't be dead, Gilbert, he can't!”

“Let him go,” Gilbert said. He tried to pull Ludwig to his feet, but couldn't even stand up again. “François, help me, please. You can't bring him back, Ludwig, stop it!”

“No, Gilbert, no, he can't be dead! Nations don't die!”

Between the two of them, Gilbert and Francis got Ludwig to his feet and away from Feliciano's body, but he wouldn't stop struggling. 

“Everyone, out,” Francis snapped. “Get everyone out, he needs space!”

Everyone went, most Nations helping each other depending on who could walk unsupported and who couldn't. The past Kiku woke up enough to leave under his own power, but once he was on his feet, he stopped to stare at Feliciano's body.

“Honda,” Arthur called. “You need to come.”

“I'm sorry,” Kiku said. He coughed to clear his throat and wiped at the tears on his cheeks before staring at his hand like he hadn't realized he was crying. “I'm sorry, I don't know how to... it's been a very long time since I lost someone. I don't know what to do.”

“Come.”

Alfred glanced back at his Kiku and followed the other Nations out of the room, away from Ludwig and his broken crying. No one was inclined to speak for a long time, until Ivan and Yao returned from wherever they had been. 

“What happened?” Yao hurried over as soon as he saw the crowd.

Francis, just stepping out of the room, shut the door and answered, “We were attacked.”

“Where's Déguó and Yìdàlì?”

“Inside still, with Prusse.” François leaned on the doorframe. “Italie defeated it, but... he didn't make it.”

“What is that book you have?” Arthur asked suddenly.

“This?” Yao raised the red leather book. “It was in the library. It just appeared there, when we were about to leave.” He threw it lightly to Arthur.

“That looks like Italie's book.” Francis said. “I thought it was a New Testament or something.”

“It's a journal,” Arthur said. He flipped it open and stared. “What's this – the first page...” He went pale and turned the book for Francis and his Alfred to see. “He signed it, as Italia Veneziano.”

Alfred squinted to try and read the page, but he only got a glimpse before his head ached and his knees gave out. He fell to the ground, back in the cell in the basement, shaking so hard Mattie knelt by him and wrapped his arms around him.

“What happened? What's wrong, are you okay?” he asked. He swallowed audibly himself, but Alfred didn't get the feeling he'd seen what he had. 

“T-that wasn't the kind of memory I got before,” Alfred said. “That was...”

Kiku suddenly gave a small cry and fell to the ground as well. Arthur cursed and crouched by him as well.

“Honda?” Alfred asked.

“Alfred?” Kiku mumbled. He looked up, and he was also shaking like a leaf. “Did you...?”

“I was in a memory with you, yeah.”

“I see.”

“What was that?” Arthur asked. “How?”

“I don't know.” Kiku said. “Did you see a memory?”

“Yes, it was like all the others we've had before. It wasn't unusual or upsetting at all.”

Alfred refrained from asking bluntly if Arthur found anything short of losing a colony upsetting. It's not like he'd ever given him an honest answer before.

“We should go back upstairs.” Mattie fixed Arthur with a stare. “We're not up to a fight with these two in this state.”

“You're correct,” Arthur said. “Can you walk, Kiku?”

Kiku tried to get up and tripped. Arthur simply picked him up instead of offering again. Mattie hauled Alfred's arm around his shoulders and stood up with him, starting towards the path out, Ivan walking just ahead. Alfred was grateful. 

Just because he could feel Arthur's glare at his back didn't mean he wanted to see it.

IIII

In the safe room, Feliciano was curled up in a chair by the bathroom door, dressed in his own damp clothes, when Japan and the others got back. Japan pushed Arthur off gently and came over to him, and Feliciano smiled at him out of habit.

“What did you find?” he asked.

Japan bowed a little to him and pulled a letter out of his pocket. “We found this downstairs. I think its meant for you.”

Feliciano sat up a bit more and accepted it. It was a folded sheet of paper, tucked shut on itself with his name written on the outside in his own handwriting. He didn't recognize it. “Where did you find this?”

“Downstairs.”

“I don't remember writing this.” Feliciano began to carefully open the paper, hoping Japan wouldn't notice his hands shaking. 

“I don't believe you would, even if your memory were back.”

“It is coming back,” Feliciano said. He shot Japan a curious look, wondering why he sounded so careful, but the letter was open now and that didn't require him to speak and might answer his questions anyways.

'To myself, when I survive this and we all get out alive.  
'I will make mistakes as many times as I make progress. I will realize I can trust the others to have the same priorities as me, even those who seem incapable of it. I was wrong that everyone would blame me for bringing them here. Nobody could have anticipated this, and it's foolish to think that Nations cannot come to realize when it's more important to solve the problem than to decide who to blame.  
'Of course we're still angry at each other. Some of us will never be as good at handling stress and anger as others, but everyone can manage it – even England. Without him, I could not send you this letter. Without everyone, we will never get out. Tell them the truth. Trust them to try to get out and to listen to you when you explain.  
'I will make it through this. I am not alone. I can cry without being thought weak, and my friends are here to comfort me. Please don't be afraid of relying on them.  
'I cannot do this alone and I do not have to.'

Feliciano covered his mouth and sniffled a little. He shot a look across the room, to where England and France, and Alfred and Canada were sitting curled up around each other again. China was in the kitchen threatening Russia with a spoon; Gilbert and Ludwig were in the bathroom, washing up.

Lovino and Antonio were there too, asleep in one of the beds together.

“Thank you,” Feliciano said softly.

“May I read it?” Japan asked.

Feliciano folded it closed on itself again and shook his head. “I wrote it to... remind myself. That I need to trust you, too. I shouldn't be afraid of our pettiness getting in the way. I'm sorry I've not been letting you help more.”

“There are no hard feelings,” Japan bowed a little and smiled. “I do not have to help, but it would be nice if I could understand more of what is going on. I'm sure it is that for most of us.”

“Of course,” Feliciano smoothed out the edges of the letter again. “I – I think I need to think on this for a little while, but – thank you for bringing it to me.”

Japan clasped his hands at his waist and nodded. “Itaria, have you considered what you want to do once we get back?”

“I – no,” Feliciano stammered. “I haven't. Why?”

“I have agreed to host Roshia and Chugoku in my home once we are out and wished to extend the invitation to the rest of you as well to come see my personal home.”

“Ah.” Feliciano blinked. “I – I see. Yes, I think I'd like that.” He licked his lips a little and smiled. “Thank you.”

“I have a small garden. It is rather modest, but I think if you wished you could find something to make us for breakfast with.”

“What kind of garden?” Feliciano asked. He didn't know what was commonly grown in Japan; it was hard to plan if he didn't know what the foods were. Depending on what he had, he could make a few different things that would easily feed this many people...

“Cabbage and radish, and tomatoes and eggplant. The grapes won't be ripe until August, but I have the herbs and tomatoes growing inside.”

“Oh, well anything not in season I can have sent to us,” Feliciano said. “If I go home first for a little while, when I come back I'll have it all with me.”

“I would be honoured.”

“Hey, are you two talking food?” Alfred asked. He came over, Canada trailing behind him holding his hand.

Japan turned to smile at him politely. “We were discussing breakfast at my home after we get out.”

“And what to make,” Feliciano smiled. “Would you like to help?”

Alfred laughed and grinned. “I wouldn't dream of getting in your way in the kitchen, you make great food all by yourself!”

“Do you have plans after that?” Canada asked.

“Who's in the kitchen?” Gilbert asked. Ludwig followed him out of the bathroom, wiping water off his face as he came. 

“I offered to let Feliciano cook in my kitchen,” Japan repeated. “Once we're out. I think it would be nice to plan a few days together, doing things we enjoy.”

“Nagashima Resort,” Gilbert suggested immediately. “God I've been meaning to get out there. You practically owe me a day there after this.”

“Of course.” Japan bowed again.

“What else would you want to cook for us?” Ludwig asked. He wasn't looking at Japan, and Feliciano hid his face. Ludwig and Japan both knew he was easily distracted by cooking. He wanted to be angry with them – they had to focus on staying alive – but... it was so tempting to think of after.

Assuming everyone survived to remember it.

Feliciano swallowed and straightened up. They just had to make this the last time. That was all.

“I know everyone will want me to make them pasta! Would you bring anything?”

“Beer.” Ludwig laughed with a small, shy smile. “Maybe wurst?”

Feliciano grinned at him, memorizing the expression on his face.

“Is this our party you're planning, Rìbĕn?” China asked.

“Yes. We will have Itaria cook us breakfast, and go to an amusement park, and dinner is planned as well.” Japan turned to face him. “We should take a few days so everyone can do something they enjoy.”

“That sounds wonderful! I want to see your Disney resorts! You must take me to your best shopping, aru!”

“I would like to get one of those housecoats to take home with me,” Russia said. “What are they called again? Yukata?”

“Yes, of course we will go shopping,” Japan agreed. “I know that will please Furansu and Igirisu as well.”

Feliciano looked around at everyone again and swallowed the lump in his throat. Everyone – most everyone – was together and getting along. It was as good as he could expect. He did have all of his friends with him, after all. 

“Thank you for reminding me of this,” Feliciano said. “I needed it.”

“We will get out,” Japan repeated firmly. “We have everything we need to succeed.”

Someone's phone rang loudly from across the room. Lovino swore.

It rang again, and stopped with a groggy “Digame? Porque –” Antonio abruptly switched languages to German as he woke up more. “Why on earth do you need to speak to him?”

“The fuck does he want?” Lovino growled. 

Feliciano sighed at them both, guessing what was going on. He got up and walked over to them, anticipating what was needed. He came over in time to see Lovino take Antonio's phone from him to curse the caller out in Spanish once more. Around the time he started calling them “prissy britches”, Feliciano reached down and took the phone away from him.

“What did you need, Austria?” Feliciano asked, automatically in Spanish himself.

“I'm glad to hear you're alright,” Roderich said. “I wanted to tell you you should take a look out the front of the house.”

Beside him, Lovino punched Antonio in the shoulder and hissed, “Why the fuck did you forget to tell him we found them already? He didn't need to fucking come!”

Feliciano put his hand lightly on Lovino's head to encourage him to be quiet. “Sure, I'll come look! You didn't have to come all this way, we have everything in hand.”

“We as Nations need to help each other out as much as we can.”

Feliciano considered strongly hanging up on him, but he wasn't sure they'd be able to get another call in and if this was important he couldn't risk losing the information. He badly wanted to, however. 

“Where are we going?” Gilbert asked.

“To the front of the house. We should all go, I think,” Feliciano said. “Austria wants to show us something.”

There was no objection to it. Everyone began to gather their weapons as France and England were roused from bed and were quickly caught up on what was going on. It was a tense but short walk to get to the alcove between the front rooms that looked down on the lawn outside. 

“Why is anyone else here at all?” France asked as they went. “I didn't think most of them knew where we'd even gone.”

Antonio snorted. “Well, when we were getting ready to leave Lovino was – himself.”

“Ahh, yes.” France laughed softly. “He woke them all up?”

“Shut up,” Lovino muttered. “I was worried.”

“He woke up Hungria and Dinamarka, at least, and I explained what he was upset about. They said they might come check on us if we weren't back by the afternoon...”

Feliciano shot Antonio a look and got silence before he finally steeled himself to step up to the window and look out. Russia was looking out the other side. 

“I'm here,” Feliciano said into the phone.

“Which window – ah, there you are.” Austria waved politely. “Your brother worries about you very much.”

“You would know that, wouldn't you.” Feliciano bit down on his tone before he got more angry. “Things just got – difficult here.” He glanced around and finally gasped. 

It wasn't just Austria and Hungary that had come. Denmark had brought the rest of the Nordics with him. Across the alcove, Russia muttered something about his sisters. Feliciano tried to do a headcount, but, even as he watched, groups were moving out of sight around the building.

“Who came?” he asked softly.

“Much of the G20 that was here for the meeting,” Austria replied. “And a few others. It's not everyone, but close to it. We couldn't let so many Nations disappear like this, Venedig.” Abruptly Feliciano heard a resouding bang through the phone and watched Austria jump and curse. He moved the phone from his ear, but Feliciano could still hear him shout. “Indien, I am quite certain if the door was going to come down they'd have done it by now! Stop that!”

“What did she do?” Feliciano asked.

“Ah,” Austria sighed audibly. “She retrieved her mace and tried to break through the door.”

“No, it's not going to work but its good to know you can't do anything from outside either.” Feliciano exhaled carefully again and nodded to himself. “Thank you, for coming at all,” he said softly. “I think we need to talk about things here, between us, but we'll try to –” The phone crackled and Feliciano cursed. “Austria? Austria!”

“Lost the call?” Gilbert asked.

“Yes,” Feliciano took a careful breath and swallowed, handing the phone off behind his back for someone to take as he continued to stare out the window. They were all here. All of the Nations for the meeting, or near-abouts.

He wasn't sure why they'd chosen to do it, but – they had to be better off than them inside the house. More safe. Norway was here, too. If they could have him working on the spells from outside... and he wasn't the only magic-worker they had, right? If Liechtenstein and South Korea had come...

They were here, and they just had to get outside and they'd help. Of course they'd help.

They just had to get outside the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for flashback to character death  
> Warning for discussion of food and cooking  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Yes, I wrote a female India. Considering the history of India, it's probably a similar case to Italy and Germany in that there's multiple Nations for a recently combined state and I wanted another woman on the cast.


	14. Chapter 14

Leaning on the windowsill, Feliciano could see the other Nations in various places – France, Gilbert and Antonio watching the hallway back while Lovino and Ludwig hovered nearby and the rest scattered around the alcove, taking turns at the other window.

“What things did you think we needed to know?” Arthur asked.

Feliciano ran his hands up his arms. “I don't think I remember everything yet, but... I heard about the mansion while looking for things for breakfast that morning – I mean, the hotel had food but I didn't like any of it, so I went out and – while I was out, I heard a couple students talking about it. It just sounded like somewhere they went to scare themselves.” He swallowed and gestured vaguely. “I looked it up. The kids go about once a year, every couple years. They remember it was scary, and nothing more, and one of them always goes missing and – nobody connects it. They don't remember them going with the rest, even if they were best friends who never went anywhere without each other. Like we did, forgetting the people who went missing ever came. They're just – forgotten.

“I told America about it, because I thought it'd be nice to have company, and he got really into it! All ten of us came together the first time, those who've always been with me.” He looked nervously at Antonio and Lovino again, then back to Ludwig. “We came in and – the first time – you all died. I... I was alone. I couldn't just – leave you. I wandered, and flipped through a journal in the library. The monster appeared again and I ran – still with the journal.” He ran a hand along the strap of his backpack nervously, trying to ease the weight. He licked his lips before continuing.

“I got the front door open,” he whispered. “I ran to the gates and... and then I stopped.”

It had been raining outside, he remembered. He could feel it on his face. 

He turned at the gates, and the monster stopped in its tracks. He brandished the journal at it with a snarl. 

“You lost! If I cross the gates, its done! You lose me, and it's over! I'm not like them – I won't forget you, I'll have this place razed to the ground! And all because you couldn't keep up with a fast coward!” Feliciano choked, seeing Gilbert and Ludwig's empty eyes staring at him again. It crossed his mind to wonder if Alfred and Russia were still alive, but he couldn't get them out. Couldn't go back and save them.

Could he? Feliciano flipped open the book and held it out. “You control this place, don't you?” he said. “You can take me back – back to when this began.” He stepped forward and slapped his hand to his chest. “See if you can catch me next time. If you can – if you kill me first – let them go. But as long as I'm there, swear you'll target me first – and I'll stay. I'll keep trying until I get them out.”

Ludwig touched his shoulder in the present and Feliciano jerked to attention. He smiled shakily at him and turned to press his back into his chest, fighting to remember what he'd been saying. 

“At the gates?” Japan asked softly.

“Right,” Feliciano whispered. “I – in the journal, the author – Ryuuzu no... something, he wrote that – time could go back. I made a deal, and the monster showed me how it worked. I went back, but... I woke up at the meeting, with the journal, but after I'd told Alfred about it, and after he'd talked many of you into it.

“We always come here, in the end. No matter what happened, everyone would arrive by the end of the day until we were all in the mansion together, on the same day.”

“Fucking shit!” Gilbert snapped. “Is that why it went from midnight to noon when we tried to sleep here?”

Feliciano pulled Ludwig's arms over his shoulders and began to play with his hands. “The monster can reverse time anytime he wants,” he said softly. “So I don't know.”

“But what about me and Tonino?” Lovino asked. “I don't have any memories of us being here at all.”

“You never were,” Feliciano whispered. “I don't remember it becoming tomorrow before, either. It was all over in one night, or a repeat of that night, or... Something changed. I don't know what to do, I tried telling all of you what happened the first time we did this again, but nobody listened. Of course you didn't.” He didn't look at anyone, didn't want to see guilt on their faces or disdain. “China and America and England died, and...”

“Wait,” Alfred said. “You died in the second loop, but we all lived. What loop are you remembering?”

“If he died as you saw, he never made it back Alfred,” England drawled.

Feliciano stared at them “I didn't die. If I was the only one who died, why didn't you get out? Who turned time back?” He stared at England, but he was already shaking his head.

“I don't know any spells to actually affect time, just perception of it. At this point, I don't even have the power to consider it.”

Feliciano frowned. “What gave you the memory?”

“It was in the box with the letter you wrote to yourself,” Alfred said.

“What box?”

“The one in the cell downstairs.”

Feliciano swallowed. “That box is empty. I've looked. I checked, I had England check. It's never had anything inside.”

“If the box was sealed by England, perhaps he lied to you?” Russia said.

Feliciano nodded slowly. “He could've hid it from me, yes.”

“Regardless,” England interrupted crossly. “How do you go back in time?”

“There's a clock – a big grandfather clock, in a sealed room. You open it with the same key as for the front door and wind the hands back. The winding, and a few words from the book, and time just goes back.”

“How many times have you done this?” Ludwig asked.

Feliciano leaned his head back against his shoulder. “Every time someone died,” he whispered. “Sometimes... sometimes I tried to talk myself into trying longer, pushing past it, but... I couldn't bring myself to leave. None of us could.”

Feliciano bit his lip and closed his eyes, wanting to go back to the safe room and rest again. He glanced at Lovino and smiled, wishing he could make the tension in his brother's eyes go away. He wondered how much Lovino actually knew: if he knew the things Feli had left out, or glossed over. If he didn't know, Feliciano wouldn't bring it up. 

Only one of them should have to deal with that burden.

IIII

Gilbert moved further away from England discussing the new information with François to go stand closer to Antonio where he had his arm around Lovino's shoulders. Antonio shot him a quiet smile and squeezed Lovino's shoulders to get his attention.

“Hey. What's with the face?”

“I know he's left something out,” Lovino said softly. “I don't know what, though. I just know something's missing.”

Antonio sighed. “Maybe he's just pretending it's something it's not.”

“Tomato instead of blood?” Lovino muttered sarcastically. “It's never tomatoes, I don't know why anyone would pick that excuse. It's stupid.”

Antonio kissed his hair and shrugged. Gilbert followed Lovino's look towards Honda and frowned, confused. He shivered a little and rubbed his arms to dispel a cold draft. He glanced around for a cause of it, but nothing looked different.

“What is it?” Antonio asked.

“Thought I felt something. It's nothing.” He scowled more, remembering the night before and hoping nothing like that was going on again. 

“We need to focus on what we need to do move forward,” Honda announced. “Itaria, if I may ask you one more question?”

“What is it?” Feliciano said. His nails were dug into Ludwig's arms, and it was making them both look much calmer.

“I asked you, some time ago, whether you were hurt somewhere. I think I know better what I was trying to ask you.” Honda gave Feliciano his soft, honest smile. “Do you know how you want this to end?”

Feliciano stared back at him. “I... I know what I want, yes.”

“What is that?”

Feli bit his lip and dropped his eyes. He swallowed, then raised his head again, smiling broadly. “I want to go home,” he said. “With Ludwig and everyone, and – get out. Away from here. Somewhere safe.”

Gilbert walked up beside Antonio and pointed at Honda. “Hey, don't you go making Venedig cry! C'mon!”

“Oh, c'mon Gilbert,” Alfred retorted. “We were being serious here!”

Arthur made a scoffing noise and Honda took a step back, retreating from where Feliciano had turned to bury his face in Ludwig's chest. Gilbert started to go to his side when he felt the temperature suddenly rise and Antonio cursed. 

He pointed down the hall and shouted, “Madre de dios! What the Hell is that!?”

Gilbert cursed and drew his sword, regretting that he'd dismissed the draft so easily. 

“Ahh, Anton!” François laughed and drew his own sword. “You make me feel so jaded!”

The monster was coming up the hallway from the east, the rooms with the fireplace and where Italy had been attacked. 

Wood shattered to his left and Gilbert whipped around, turning away from the monster at the end of the hall to see the second come through the door beside them. Alfred's gun fired into the monster coming out of the room, and he pushed Canada back into Ivan's arms. The distraction cost him, and Alfred got backhanded across the hallway. Ludwig ran to Alfred's side as Ivan and China pinned the monster in place.

“Gilbert!” François called. “I need you!”

Gilbert turned away from his brother to deal with the monster in front of him, forcing his worry out of his mind. He brought his sword up and caught the creature's arm over François' head. Antonio buried his axe in its thigh and nearly jerked its leg out from underneath it. 

Behind him, Lovino swore. “Dammit Antonio, if you pull it down I can't shoot!”

“Ahh, sorry!” Antonio laughed. “I forgot.”

“Just keep it back –” Lovino fired and the monster's head jerked back, but he'd missed the sweet spot. “Fucking – nails!” Lovino swore.

“Language,” Gilbert joked. Lovino started swearing at him in Italian and Gilbert laughed more, enjoying the banter.

At least until the monster came around him, faster than he'd expected, and François couldn't block fast enough. The punch threw him into Gilbert's side and knocked them both to the ground. Gilbert pushed François off him and pierced the monster's arm, nearly bringing it to the floor. He put himself between the creature and François, laid out on the floor and then pulled his sword free before it could jerk it out of his hands.

A crossbow bolt sprouted in the monster's eye and it threw its head back as if to roar. A second bullet hit and Gilbert heard Alfred curse behind him. 

As the monster's head came down, a knife kissed the sweet spot and the bolt and knife both fell to the floor. Gilbert gathered them up and turned in time to see Alfred double-tap the second monster in the forehead. Arthur jerked back, startled and glared.

“Good. I knew you'd be fine,” Arthur said flatly.

“Oh for – would you just shut up already?” Yao groaned. 

Arthur ignored him to come over and check on François. Gilbert crouched but could see that, barring the budding bruise across the side of his face, François was fine. He checked his eyes anyways, but his pupils matched and he didn't have light to test their reactions.

“I feel kind of useless,” Lovino muttered. “I didn't realize how tight every fight was going to be. I can't use my gun unless I have a lot of clear ground.”

“I'm sure we'll have somewhere for it, and until then your handgun will be fine.”

Lovino popped the clip on his gun and weighed it in his hands to guess how many bullets he had left, his face worried. Gilbert touched his own, but he hadn't fired it yet – he still had twelve bullets. He'd have to ask Ludwig how he was doing; if he needed it, he'd give him – 

“Congratulations! Congratulations!”

Gilbert swore and spun around, looking for the voice. It'd come from near the ceiling; that much was obvious but direction wasn't clear; it had sounded young and disturbingly amused.

“Gilbert, what the Hell!?” Antonio yelped. “What bit you?”

“What – you didn't hear that?” Gilbert stared back at him, then checked everyone else's face. They were all staring at him; of all people, Ludwig looked the least like he wondered if he'd lost it. Gilbert swallowed and smiled. “Sorry. I thought – I heard something. Must've been imagining it.”

He definitely hadn't, but fuck he'd never had visions or anything like that before.

“Was this the same as downstairs?” Alfred asked. “What you heard?”

“I don't know,” Gilbert said, trying not to cross himself again. “It's no big deal. I'll tell you if it happens again, kay? We should get back to the saferoom now, take care of the wounded.”

Arthur took the initiative to help François stand up; Alfred was already hanging off Canada's arm. They weren't the only two injured: China was brushing off Honda's attempts to bandage his arm, and Ivan had a bruise forming around a split eyebrow. It'd been long enough most injuries from the last fight were healed, but Gilbert cautiously checked his own bruises and covered them just as quickly, glad he'd work the hoodie he had so he could cover the tender spot on his neck. He didn't need anyone worrying about him right now: he was fine. Ludwig was right anyways: their best bet at getting out was to retreat after every fight if at all possible.

He took up the rear of the column with Antonio and Lovino and followed them all inside. Without discussion, everyone took up spaces around one of the big tables and Feliciano quickly began to ferry bowls of food back to everyone as they sat. Gilbert started to join him only to get a quick smile and a pat on the cheek and a firmly signed order to go sit down. 

'Are you alright?' Gilbert signed back, not wanting to draw attention to it if he didn't have to but worried about how stressed he was if he was falling back on sign already.

'Just tired.' Feliciano leaned up to kiss his cheek. 'Go, sit.'

Gilbert nodded and left Feliciano to make himself comfortable in the kitchen. He got back to the table and took whatever seat was still left open in time to see Arthur twist to glare at Feliciano as he dropped off a bowl in front of him.

“Why did you not tell us there was two of them?” he snapped.

Feliciano shook his head and retreated. 

“Dammit, Arthur, he can't tell you everything,” Lovino snapped. 

“It's something of an important detail for us to know we can get attacked from two sides at once! Did you know?”

Lovino threw his hands in the air. “I thought you already knew! It tends to be kind of obvious as far as I could tell, or did you just assume it could teleport!?”

Arthur opened his mouth to object and stopped, digging at the food with his spoon. “Is there anything else you've neglected because of it's apparent obviousness? If I am to get us out of this place, I need to know everything you can be bothered to share.”

“Impossible,” Lovino scoffed. “I couldn't possibly tell you ever minute detail you might need, Arthur, I've got the magic skill of a communion wafer – tasteless and minute.”

“I think we should focus on what resources we can pool rather than trying to force this to happen,” Ludwig said gently. “We can't just waste time going over details like this.”

“I would like to know more as well,” China snapped. “I simply have patience. It's not outside our rights to have answers.”

“You cannot get them by demanding they be produced on command,” Lovino snapped.

Antonio had his hand tight enough on Lovino's shoulder, Gilbert was sure he'd already tried to explode. Gilbert pushed his chair back and stood up, rapping his fist hard on the table. “Okay, look, we need to agree on a few things before we keep this up,” he announced. “Or we're going to have anarchy. We need some rules.”

“We should form an alliance!” Alfred stood up and slapped his hand on the table as well. “We can write it down, put it up on the wall and set out what we're all going to do to help each other!”

China sat back in his chair with a surprised look. “Ah. I would like that, yes.”

“We cannot make an alliance between ourselves without our government's permission,” Ivan shook his head. “Prussiya has no government to align.”

“This isn't about government,” Gilbert snapped. “It's about us, as people, who are almost dying. I'm not the only one here without my Nation behind me – we're all cut off. We don't need their permission to survive.”

Ivan raised his eyebrows back at him. “And if someone finds the paper?”

“We'll include an end clause,” Alfred said immediately. “An alliance only until we're all out of this house alive, and only valid against the common enemy inside here. C'mon, Vanya,” Alfred wheedled, “we wrote documents like this all the time.”

“And what is our common goal?” Arthur asked dryly.

“To get out alive and in one piece.”

Arthur ran a hand over his mouth and then nodded. “I agree, on one condition. “We should sign this with our personal names, not our country names. Then,” Arthur smiled thinly at Ivan, “we don't have to worry about someone finding it.”

China and Honda looked uncomfortable. Gilbert cleared his throat again. “Someone here must've picked up blank paper. We need to start a draft of it. I can write it, assuming everyone's okay with latin characters and English as the language for it?”

Ludwig immediately got up and fetched him paper from in the room, unlined much to Gilbert's relief, and a fountain pen. Gilbert quickly started across the top with the phrase 'For the duration of our confinement on the grounds of the mansion outside Kyoto on the hill by the G20 meetingplace,' and then paused.

“So what are our promises to each other?”

Everyone exchanged looks uncomfortably around the table.

“To help everyone else get out alive,” Lovino said, although he was looking at Feliciano's hands as he said it. “We all need that.”

“That's not a duty, aru,” China sighed. “That's the goal.”

“So, 'to achieve the goal of getting every signatory on this document off the property alive, we promise to do the following' – jawohl?” Gilbert quickly crossed the t's and looked around again. “C'mon, surely you guys can come up with something?”

“Promise to behave in the interests of mutual cooperation by honouring our respective talents and expertise whenever it would be best for one person to act in the place of another,” Alfred said. “I mean, we've done pretty well at that already, what with some of us not having weapons that are any good in close.”

“Promise to share all information we gather as soon as reasonably possible, to allow others to make informed decisions about the best possible route forward,” England added.

Feliciano ducked his head, but his hands moved quickly at the top edge of the table and Lovino translated.

“We promise to respect the space and body of the others in the group, to do no harm to each other and to not give help until it has been accepted or implied by lack of consciousness.”

“Can't he speak for himself?” Arthur snapped.

“He did,” Gilbert snapped back, “Lovino translated. I don't see you complaining that we're all using English.”

“Add that we will respect when we should know that help wouldn't be accepted regardless of unconsciousness,” China added, and didn't bother to hide his glare at Arthur.

Gilbert caught up to the additions and quickly redirected everyone with “Backpacks. What are we doing about resources? We're not exactly in a situation to share them out equally.”

“We could look it over if you wanted to?” Canada suggested quietly.

“It'd be a waste of energy, I think,” Alfred said. “I mean, we're sharing the food Ludwig stashed here pretty well already.” 

“We promise to hold all goods in common,” Ivan began, his eyes half shut, “unless they are best used by a specific member's expertise, and all that is not used will go back to their former owners upon exit conditions of the document. Da?”

“Thank you, Vanya,” Gilbert glanced over the document and slid it over to François. “Here, this is what I have down I think it's a good start.”

“We shouldn't waste too much time on this either,” Ludwig sighed, “but having some basic rules should help.”

François passed the paper to Arthur, who reached over for Gilbert's pen. He gave it to him, assuming he meant to correct something, only for Arthur to quickly sign his name across the bottom and push it around the corner of the table to China. China gave Arthur an unhappy look, but added his name's characters to the paper and passed it on.  
“I can't read that,” Arthur complained.

“If you could read it, it would not be my personal name.”

The paper completed the circle back to Gilbert and François. Gilbert made sure they both added their names, then straightened and cleared his throat. He closed his eyes and hoped the headache would fade soon after this, but he needed to finish it formally.

“For the duration of our confinement on the grounds of the mansion outside Kyoto on the hill by the G20 meetingplace, to achieve the goal of getting every signatory on this document off the property alive, we promise to do the following.

“We promise to behave in the interests of mutual cooperation by respecting our individual talents and expertise whenever it would be best for one person to act in place of another.

“We promise to share all information we gather as soon as reasonably possible, to allow others to make informed decisions about the best possible route forward.

“We promise to respect the space and body of others in the group, to do no harm to each other and to not give help until it has been accepted or implied by lack of consciousness, and to respect when it is known that help wouldn't be accepted regardless.

“We promise to hold all goods in common unless they are best used by a specific member's expertise, and all that is not used will go back to their former owners upon exit conditions of the document.

“Signed below are Arthur Kirkland, and, um,” Gilbert glanced at China.

“Wang Yao,” he said.

“Wang Yao,” Gilbert said with a nod. “Ivan Braginsky, Mathieu Williams, Alfred F Jones, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, Lovino Vargas, Ludwig Beilschmidt, Feliciano Vargas, Honda Kiku, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and François Bonnefoy.” He closed his eyes and tried not to squint to relieve the budding headache.

“I thought you couldn't read Hanzi. You read Japan's name fine,” Arthur grumbled.

“I can read kanji, not hanzi,” Gilbert said. “More importantly, though, I know Japan's name already.”

“This does not mean I want anyone to take this as an invitation to use it,” Honda said firmly.

“Me neither,” China said.

“I don't care who picks up mine!” Alfred grinned. “But guys, this isn't a friendship doc, it's an alliance. You don't assume someone likes you that much just 'cause they signed a treaty.”

“Perhaps Arthur's diplomacy would go better if he adopted such a policy,” China said acerbically.

“I would be fine if people wished to use Ivan, but I would take it as a very friendly gesture,” Ivan said mildly.

“Nobody's getting friendly over a document,” Gilbert snapped. “C'mon, this is just a technicality. I'll go put it up by the bathroom and we can figure out what to do next. Excuse me.”

He walked away from the table before the argument could get any worse, hoping as he went that people were too distracted to notice he was shaking. He ripped a hole in the paper to slip it over a nail in the wall, then ducked into the bathroom and hid behind a curtain. He splashed water on his face over the sink and ran it cold over his hand as he checked his face in the mirror. He was paler than the paper he'd been writing on, his eyes more red than purple. He ran a finger down his cheek, but his colour – what little he had – came back quickly enough. 

He tugged the collar of his sweatshirt down and gave the bruise there an unhappy look. It was still getting darker: it hadn't even started to heal yet. It was kind of a miracle nobody had asked about the part that had hit his jaw and cheek, but he supposed they just thought he kept getting injured, which wasn't wrong exactly. The rest were just hidden by his jeans and coat. 

He shook his hand off and pressed it, cold, to his eyes, sighing at the relief from the strain writing and reading had given it. He was already tense – trying to do more hurt. The longer he stood with his cold hand pressed to his face, however, the more the dizziness faded. By the time his hand was warm again, he was no longer bracing himself on the sink.

He hadn't eaten much that day yet. That was probably it. It wasn't that he was cut off from even the memory of East Germany, he wouldn't get sick from just that. 

Not this soon. He couldn't afford to get sick, he simply couldn't. He had to get Ludwig and Feliciano out alive; and Lovino and Alfred and Antonio and François... he had to make sure they were okay. It didn't matter what happened to him after that, but he refused to die until he knew they were safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor discussion of food.  
> No other content warnings for chapter.
> 
> For those wondering "Nails" is a 'minced oath' which means it's a way to slip a curseword into language without actually using the Lord's name in vain. The full oath is "God's nails" referring to the crucifixion and they were/are common to observant Christians. 
> 
> I hope I got the different terms for Chinese and Japanese writing correct.
> 
> Gilbert's eye issues are taken directly from common symptoms associated with albinism and that stubborn kind of personality that pretends they don't need glasses even when they do.


	15. Chapter 15

Gilbert's shaking had stopped in another minute or so, when someone knocked sharply on the bathroom door. 

“Puroisen! Please, come out, I need you!”

Cursing, Gilbert jerked back the curtain and threw open the door. “What is it?”

“They –” Honda began, but Gilbert didn't let him finish the sentence. He could see the argument, and stalked straight up to it. 

“It is going to be up to everyone who they choose to sleep with, is it not?” François said, his tone carefully mild.

“I'm not getting stuck next to one of you fucking heathens!” Lovino snarled. Antonio had his arms around his waist, keeping Lovino away from the obvious target of his anger: England, standing next to François. 

Gilbert covered his face again, wondering why he'd bothered chasing off dizziness only to trade it for this headache. Feliciano was standing by the kitchen and rocking in place, playing his hands up and down Luwig's arm, unable to stay still.

“There is not enough room for you to have the space you feel you need,” England snapped. “If you wish to try and curl up in the corner and fall off the bed, be my guest.”

“Your opinion was not asked, Opium,” China snapped.

“He is small enough to share comfortably, is he not?” Ivan suggested. He walked closer to the group, only to have China jerk away from him and snap.

“Get away from my back!”

“You see the issue at hand,” Honda murmured. “I do not know how to resolve this.”

“We're not even going to sleep for another few hours, are we?” Gilbert asked loudly.

“We need to rest for a short time,” Ludwig said. “None of us are likely to sleep more than three or four hours at a time, given our situation. I thought we could resolve that we are short two beds now before it was a more immediate concern.” He looked nervous and ashamed for having brought it up.

“Perhaps if we could all be trusted to keep our hands to ourselves we would not have this problem.” China glared at England again, and Gilbert gave up and stepped into his line of sight.

“This isn't the problem.” Gilbert said. “Given the state of things, some of us are going to have to share beds, we don't have enough for everyone.”

China cut him off. “I do not wish to hear them fucking all night if that bastard cannot even have the decency to shoot up in the bathroom!”

“He's not going to –”

“He absolutely fucking will!” Lovino added. 

“Look, his whole family's here, he's not going to be that rude,” Alfred said, his tone pleading. “C'mon, we can make this work if we all think of something, we don't have to all sleep at once or in the same places...”

“Assuming we can all agree to keep our pants on to sleep,” Gilbert shouted again, “We're going to want to come up with more space for everyone anyways. I know I don't want to be stuck picking between sharing with my brother or Feliciano anyways. We could move the beds together and sprawl, maybe but I know that won't hold indefinitely...” 

“If the mattresses are on the floor, they would be more likely to stay put?” Ivan suggested. “Or it will be less of a problem if they do not. The effective area for sleeping will greatly increase, and if someone wishes,” he added, looking at China, “they can drag their mattress somewhere else.”

“That's great!” Alfred quickly grabbed England's arm. “C'mon, you can help me start undressing the beds, okay?”

Gilbert watched Canada and France trail after Alfred and England, then turned and smiled tiredly back at Ivan. “Thanks. That was a good idea.”

Ivan gave him a thin smile back. “I am pleased to serve the good of our alliance.”

Gilbert scowled at him and went to help disassemble the beds, trying to put the memories out of his mind. François and England were stripping the blankets while Canada removed screws before Alfred jerked the bed frames apart, mostly without breaking them.

Alfred looked up and broke into a half smile. “Any idea where the Hell Ludwig even got these from, Gil? I mean, this house is damn old and it doesn't appear to be missing any beds elsewhere. How did he even get them up the stairs?”

“We're in a house that has time travel and you're wondering about the bedframes?” François laughed. 

Canada produced a second screwdriver from his backpack and Gilbert began to help him in disassembling the beds.

“Well, might as well.” Alfred hauled the pieces of bed over to lean them on the wall. “I mean, the tables – he didn't get those up the stairs, there's no way he could do it. They don't really disassemble like the beds.”

“I suspect the tables may have already been here.” England said. “They appear to have been an affectation of the former owner, seeing as they're in almost every room.”

“Did you know him?” Gilbert asked. “You seem to get what he was doing really well. Did you meet him in England or something?”

England shot him an unhappy look, but subsided into a shrug. “I didn't know him, or I doubt I did. Syncretizing ceremonial magic into local traditions is incredibly common, almost all magic used for practical rather than ritual purposes does it.”

Gilbert frowned. “What do you mean by syncretized?”

England rolled his eyes and groaned. “I am not explaining magic theory to a Crusader.”

“It means combining the traditions,” Alfred explained. “Like, a lot of the structure this guy used is obviously ceremonial, which is nothing like Japanese magic – or not according to Hanguk, at least.”

“Would you just call him Korea?” England snapped. “It's simpler, and I don't wonder if you choked on something.”

“It's too long,” Alfred retorted. “It's not like you don't know who I mean. Just because you don't speak other people's languages much doesn't mean you don't know them.”

“Südkorea knows Japanese magic?” Gilbert asked.

“Oh, yeah, he knows most around Asia. I showed him a few things about how Arthur's works, and he explained how they were really different. So having stuff from ceremonial magic here means the old owner was definitely in Europe studying it at least. I've talked to Japan about it, too, but he's not as familiar with his folk magic as Hanguk is.”

Gilbert laughed a little at that. “Honda's not really the type, no. How many people do you even know who do magic?”

“Lots of people dabble in it!” Alfred grinned. “Its cool learning how different things are. Mattie does it, and Norge, and Mexico even, at least a little. You already know about Italy's.”

“Hey.” Gilbert laughed. “I forgot you do magic, Little France!”

“It's not much like Arthur or Italy's,” Canada said softly. “Just little things, healing spells and light.”

“That's still great.”

Canada nodded and pocketed another screw, leaving the frame for Alfred to disassemble. Gilbert helped him get the last of the frames taken down and started remaking the mattresses on the floor, pushed up against each other. England left to go use the bathroom at the end and Gilbert dropped into place next to François to hug his boyfriend to his chest.

“Hah, that was good to get out of the way, yeah?” he said.

“Oui,” François laughed. “How are you doing, Prusse? You seem a little tired.”

“Just hard to sleep well, that's all.” Gilbert said dismissively. “And you? You're taking on England all by yourself, is he treating you okay?”

François sighed. “He's treating me fine, Gilbert, don't worry so.”

“Sure, of course,” Gilbert said. “I mean, I appreciate you making sure he doesn't push anyone over the edge because God knows we don't need him and China coming to blows, but if he hurts you –”

“You'll what?” François asked pointed. “Who else here has a working knowledge of ceremonial magic, Gilbert?”

“He's not the only one here who can see magic.”

“He's right,” Alfred said softly. “That's not the only thing that it takes. I can't disassemble spells like he can, and Feliciano doesn't know ceremonial stuff at all. Mattie can't hold his Sight open and do anything else at the same time. We do need him, Gilbert.”

Gilbert looked down at his hands. “If I'd let Ulrich teach me...”

François kissed his forehead. “Don't do this to yourself,” he said. “You didnt' want to learn, you two had different approaches to things. You couldn't have foreseen this.”

Gilbert sighed and rubbed at his face, wishing it hadn't come back. He missed Holy Rome so much sometimes. He kept thinking he'd get used to having lost so many of the German states by now, but it never stayed buried long.

“How's England for heroin, anyways?” Gilbert sighed. “I don't want to deal with him running out if we can help it.”

François studied one of his palms. “Another day, perhaps. I haven't asked, but I will speak to him about trying to extend it.”

“He's at least sober right now, right, for alcohol?” Gilbert checked. “I mean, he'd have said something by now if he wasn't, right?”

“Oh, yes, he's on a dry spell for that at least.” François rubbed at his face. “Mon dieu, if he wasn't he'd already be in withdrawal. I'll keep an eye on him, Gilbert, I promise.”

Gilbert saw England coming back from the bathroom and quickly pulled François over and kissed him on both cheeks twice. “Just don't forget I'm here. I still want to talk to you, damn his jealousy.”

“Of course.” François cupped his cheeks and kissed him gently on the mouth. “I promise, I could never forget you even if I tried!”

“If you're quite done,” England said dryly. “I'd like my boyfriend back.” He dropped onto the mattress on François' other side and slid his arm around his waist. François squeezed Gilbert's hand and turned to kiss England on the mouth.

Gilbert bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything else, and went to check on Feliciano in the kitchen instead.

IIII 

With China's help, Feliciano got everyone fed lunch and tucked into various corners of the saferoom to rest for a few hours. Lovino and Antonio and England and François were making use of the beds to sleep, while Alfred and Ludwig discussed something about the bedframes and Gilbert spoke quietly with Canada. 

When Japan offered to help China do the dishes, Feliciano vacated the kitchen to avoid feeling crowded. Dishes didn't relax him like cooking did, so with that done he went into the bathroom to try and feel clean again. 

He slipped into one of the first stalls and was about to wash his face when he heard Russia speaking in the next stall over.

“...will not be easy, but I will not compromise this,” he said in Russian. “I need them to cooperate if this is to get done... There is too much to do. I will find another piece to help me if I have to, and quickly. Thank you.”

Feliciano stayed very quiet, trying to remember the words he hadn't known. He understood enough Russian to realize Russia was planning something, but not enough to feel like he had any idea what it was. He could ask Gilbert to translate it later.

Russia left the bathroom, and when Feliciano turned on the water his hands were shaking. While it ran, he slipped out of the curtain and glanced into the stall Russia had used, and the other two as well.

There was no one else in the bathroom.

Their cell phones were working again, Feliciano remembered, but that didn't explain who Russia had been calling. Perhaps he'd explain it to the rest once he'd sorted out... whatever it was he was doing.

Hoping that was the case, Feliciano washed his arms and face. He considered having a bath, but weariness was dragging at his mind. If he got into a bath, he'd fall asleep and it would be ridiculous to drown in a bathtub after all this.

He didn't want to sleep, but he had to at least lie down. Outside the bathroom, Ludwig was still talking to Alfred, and Gilbert to Canada. Feliciano had a weird feeling not remembering if Alfred had eaten at lunch or not, but he'd still been pulling the beds apart, hadn't he? He likely just ate late, that was all.

There was a decent amount of mattress on Lovino's far side for him to lie down on. He didn't try to cuddle – Lovino would wake up if he touched him, and he deserved to rest – but he placed himself so Lovino would easily notice him if he woke up and could change position if he so wanted. 

With his back to the room, Feliciano opened the journal to his own entries near the back and scanned them, just in case. His handwriting was mostly legible, but his words weren't necessarily coherent. He'd written in Venexian, his own language, so no one he wasn't close to could read it, but the content was just... frantic records of what had worked and what had gotten them killed, ranting and grieving in turns.

His eyes started to drift shut and he slipped in and out of consciousness. Everytime the book fell, he startled awake again and tried to make sure he hadn't lost track of anything – hadn't lost any memories, but it was hard to tell. At one point, on the edge of waking, he heard someone ask “Are you sure you're okay? Can you handle this? I try to be there for you, but I don't know if you can feel any of it.”

Feliciano jerked away and looked around. Lovino had turned in his sleep to spoon his back, and Antonio was at the tables talking with Gilbert and Ludwig. Feliciano frowned. The voice had sounded almost like them, but they were much too far away to have said it.

“Italie?” France said. “Are you awake?”

“Mm?” Feliciano put a hand on Lovino's arm and twisted to look across the beds at him. “What is it?” he asked, relieved to find talking wasn't too much anymore.

“We've slept for two hours.” France stretched and stroked England's hair, next to him. “We should probably head out again soon.”

“Ah,” Feliciano sighed and nodded, turning in Lovino's arms to shake his shoulder. “Fratello,” he said softly in Italian. “Brother, wake up. We need to go.”

“The fuck time's it?” Lovino grumbled.

“Sixteen hours,” France explained through a yawn. “We came back here at thirteen.”

Early afternoon, Feliciano recalled, of the second day. He sat up cautiously and watched Lovino rub the sleep from his eyes. “Has anything happened while I was out?” he asked.

France shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

Feliciano kissed Lovino's cheeks and got up to join the others at the tables. Ludwig turned and his face softened into a smile.

“Did you finally get some sleep?” he asked.

“Yes,” Feliciano kissed him on both cheeks and then the mouth as well. “Did anything happen?”

“Not yet. What do you mean?”

“Outside. Are they okay?” 

“Roderich called a few times,” Gilbert said. “He wanted to just clarify a few things about what was going on and what to expect. Südkorea thinks he found some clocks outside and directed them to break into groups and find them. Erika's following his head.”

“Right,” Feliciano sighed and sat down in Ludwig's lap. 

“You look worried,” Gilbert said. “What is it?”

“Has everyone had something to eat?”

“Yeah, everyone that wanted it. China's started something cooking again, are you hungry?”

Feliciano shook his head and stopped stalling. “I should take a small group with me to the front room to get the second piece of the key, then we have to go upstairs.”

“Alright,” Ludwig nodded. “Gilbert, can I take your sword? Who else do you want?”

Feliciano opened his mouth and glanced at Gilbert to try and ask him to talk Ludwig out of this.

“What's going to get in the way?” Gilbert asked. “Who else is free to go with you?”

“Antonio, are you...?” Feliciano asked.

“Yes,” Antonio said immediately. “Do you want me to get Lovino?”

“How much ammo does he have?”

“130 rounds, in two clips. I could try to get more –”

“Don't,” Gilbert said. “It might try to take your hand off.” 

“That should be okay,” Feliciano bit his lip. “Ludwig, I'm not sure you're...”

“How likely is it to come to a fight?” Ludwig asked.

“...certain.”

“I can handle myself, Feliciano.”

“You've never actually fought for your life with a sword,” Feliciano said softly. “I can't...”

Ludwig subsided in his chair. “Of course. I'm sorry, you're right. Gilbert should go with you.”

“We can both go,” Gilbert said. “It'll be fine, right Feli?”

Feliciano licked his lips but nodded. Ludwig knew his limits. He'd let them handle things if they had to. It'd be nice to have someone to cling to, right, that wouldn't compromise a fighter?

Right.

“Hey, did you get me up for a reason or not?” Lovino called.

Feliciano hopped off Ludwig's lap and waved. “I'm coming, yes!” He took Ludwig's hand and pulled him over to the staircase to put it down again.

At the bottom of the ladder, Lovino was checking over his gun again and scowled at him. “What kind of fight is this going to be?”

“It's waiting in the room for us,” Feliciano said softly. “Somewhere. I can't remember.”

Lovino glanced over the group and nodded shortly. “As long as everybody stays out of my line of fire, I can use this.”

“Yes, I thought so.” Feliciano smiled at him. 

“Why is it going to be there?” Antonio asked.

“Because we can't get out without the item in there,” Feliciano sighed. “We can't do anything else until we have it.”

“Bring it on,” Gilbert smirked.

“Are sure we can't just go through a wall?” Antonio complained, but he pushed open the door to the next room and lead the way to the hallway. “It would be much simpler.”

“I've never seen an outer wall, door, or window even crack.” Feliciano said tiredly. “Alfred and Russia both tried. India tried the front door with her mace and couldn't dent it. We cannot get out that way.”

“And nobody has anything to use to get us back out the cave?”

“Canada tried,” Gilbert said. “He couldn't make it up the walls to attach another rope. And before you ask, having someone lower it down isn't going to go well. We'd be sitting ducks getting everyone out one at a time.”

“Sitting ducks to what?”

“Fireballs.”

“Would fire destroy the walls?” Antonio asked.

“No,” Feliciano said flatly.

“Can we not talk about this?” Ludwig asked. “Feliciano knows the most likely way we can get out. If we're going to come up with ideas, it should be somewhere with England around to give input on the magic as well.”

“Yeah,” Feliciano agreed. He slipped his arm around Ludwig's waist and clung to him as they came around the stairwell to the front hall. He eyed the door to the room, but it didn't look any different than usual. “It's in there. Under the rug, I think.”

Lovino went to the door and crouched against the doorframe while Antonio pushed the door open hard enough to bounce it off the wall. Lovino slipped into the doorway and scanned the room, then stood. “Clear. It's coming in through the door then?”

“I – I think so,” Feliciano whispered. He couldn't remember. He didn't think it had, but where had it come from if not? There was nowhere for it to hide inside the room. He knew it somehow had, but telling them it could come from anywhere wouldn't help at all so he stayed silent.

Lovino nodded curtly and stepped back, his gun braced on his shoulder as he watched the door. Antonio stood level with him, a few steps back from the door and out of the firing range of his gun, his axe calmly across his chest and Gilbert at his shoulder.

Ludwig began to check under the rug for him, letting Feliciano stand back by the window again where he felt safe. 

The window was safe, but not the front door. 

He was forgetting something important, he just knew it, but he couldn't think of what. Something about how everyone was standing made his stomach clench. He wiped at his forehead and noticed sweat. Feliciano choked.

“GILBERT, TONINO, MOVE!”

Gilbert jumped back and nearly tripped over the couch; Antonio jumped the opposite direction. As the monster came down from the ceiling, it slammed its fist into Antonio's chest and crushed him into the floor. Gilbert snarled and slashed its elbow, forcing it to lift its arm and then take a step back to the door.

“Gilbert, outtta my way!” Lovino shouted.

Gilbert jumped back and Lovino fired a burst into the monster's chest and face, forcing it to take another step back, across the front door and putting a few feet between it and Antonio, lying still on the floor. Feliciano choked and fumbled for his knife, but Ludwig's handgun barked first.

He didn't miss. 

Lovino fumbled with his gun before dropping it to the floor; Feliciano dropped to his knees by Antonio's side and closed his eyes. He didn't need to see to heal. He didn't need to see the blood. He just had to – a pulse, he still had a pulse. For a moment he couldn't remember how to start, but it was Antonio. He started to pray and that went straight into Hail Mary and that was healing. He remembered now. He clenched a hand on his rosary as he prayed until he was nearly faint. 

He'd moved two beads up on the rosary when Antonio moved under his hand. Lovino nearly dragged his lover out of the shattered hole in the floor when he did, crying too hard to speak. Ludwig pulled Feliciano into his arms and Feli went without a fight, shaking and crying all over again.

“What happened?” Antonio asked.

“It came down from the roof,” Gilbert said. “Slammed you into the floor. Feli healed you, you're okay now.”

“It's gone?”

“Yeah, it's gone.” Gilbert laughed a little. “Didn't last very long against us at all, how could it, yeah?”

“Why didn't you remember it was by the ceiling?” Lovino snapped. “That's kind of fucking important!”

“I'm sorry,” Feliciano sobbed. “I'm sorry, I – it – it'll come down from the roof, okay? I couldn't remember, I just couldn't remember.”

“I thought it made rooms cold when it showed up!”

“Sometimes things warm up. I don't know why.”

“Fuck it! That's no help at all!”

“It's okay, bonito,” Antonio said. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed his hair. “It either gets hot or it gets cold. If it stays the same, nothing happened, okay? So you just watch for it to change.”

“If it gets cold, at least you damn well know what's happening!” Lovino pushed Antonio off and got up to pick up his gun. He popped the drum off and weighed it in his hand before putting it back. “I probably used like a third of this. I'm gonna be useless if I do this another three or four times, dammit.”

“You're not useless, Lovino,” Antonio said. He got up and checked his axe, that it was still in one piece and stable before joining him by the door. “You can sharp shoot like Feli, and throw knives.”

“Not like Feli I can't!”

“Well get out soon,” Feliciano said, desperate to believe it. “You'll be fine, okay? You're not going to end up useless, fratello, I promise. Let's just – go upstairs, okay? We just have to find the place to put this key, and it won't show up while we do that.”

Lovino pulled the strap for his gun over his shoulder again and stalked out the door, Antonio on his heels. Feliciano struggled to his feet and staggered a little as he tried to walk. Gilbert caught him by the shoulder.

“Hey, are you alright?” he said. “If you're this tired, maybe we should go back and rest.”

“No,” Feliciano said. “We're almost done. If we can just – we're so close, Gilbert, please.”

“Is this the piece you needed?” Ludwig asked.

Feliciano turned to face him and flushed. He took the metal piece out of his hand and didn't answer, afraid he'd dissolve into not being able to talk at all if he tried. He nodded and stepped forward to kiss Ludwig on the mouth, his hands buried in his hair.

“Thank you, tesoro,” Feliciano murmured. “You're right, that's what I was looking for. Thank you.”

Ludwig blushed back at him and wrapped him against his chest again. He squeezed a little, then let go. “We need to catch up with your brother.”

“Right, of course!” Feliciano turned quickly and half-jogged out the door, trusting Gilbert and Ludwig to keep up behind him. He waved to Lovino where he waited at the bottom of the stairs. Lovino waved back, pink in the face.

“Ve,” Feliciano smiled at him and kissed him on both cheeks as he caught up. “Thank you for waiting.”

“Yeah, well, I don't know what room we have to go to,” Lovino muttered. “I'm sorry I yelled. Of course you'd have told us if you remembered at all, I know that.”

“It's okay, you were scared. I know how you get.”

“We're okay now.” Lovino agreed. “Where are we going?”

“Fourth floor, the attic room.”

Lovino started up the stairs, searching each hallway as they got to it before waving them forward. Feliciano stayed right behind him, level with Antonio and only checking on Ludwig and Gilbert when he had to. When they got to the attic room, Feli went straight back to the bookcase and pushed it open, only to freeze in place. 

“What the Hell is that?” he said.

Lovino came back from checking the closet and scowled at the round white ball in the hole. “I don't fucking know.”

“What is what?” Antonio asked.

Ludwig came over and frowned. “It's a mochi. Don't you remember?”

“I have never seen that before,” Feliciano said unhappily. “It's in the way.”

“I can try to coax it out again,” Ludwig said. “It doesn't react like most animals I know.”

“Why is it here?” Feliciano bit down his words before he started wailing. He turned away and hugged himself, staring out the front window. “Does Honda know anything about it?”

“He seemed to consider it as normal as the other spirits in the house,” Ludwig sighed. “He couldn't get it to do anything either. You need into the hole it's in?”

“Yes,” Feliciano closed his eyes and exhaled. “Does it eat?”

Ludwig hesitated. “It should.”

“Alright.” Feliciano pulled out his phone and checked his reception before bringing up Japan's number and dialling. Suddenly a rumbling noise cut through the house. Antonio laughed.

“Was that the mochi?” he asked.

“What the Hell?” Lovino snapped. “That wasn't a hungry stomach, you twit!”

“What else could it be?”

The rumbling sound came again and Feliciano cringed and covered his free ear, hoping Japan would answer his phone soon. He kept his back turned on the others and almost jumped out of his skin then Gilbert tapped him on the shoulder.

'You okay?' Gilbert signed.

Feliciano turned and pressed his forehead into his shoulder, hugging his chest and digging his nails into his back as the rumbling sound came again. Gilbert hugged him back and said nothing, and Feliciano cursed Japan's name quietly until he answered his goddamn phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of alcohol and heroin addictions  
> Brief mention of disordered eating  
> Discussion of abusive FACE family dynamics  
> No other content warnings for this chapter
> 
> Venexian is an actual endangered language in Italy, not something I made up.


	16. Chapter 16

“Moshi-moshi?” Kiku tucked his phone against his shoulder and quickly found a towel to dry his hands. “Itaria, what do you need?”

“Hey Giappone!” Italy said brightly. “How are you doing? Is everything going okay there?”

“Hai, everything is fine here.” Kiku glanced over his shoulder and saw China had won the argument and Arthur was nowhere to be seen – banished to the bathroom with his heroin this time. “What did you call for?”

“We're upstairs in the attic room at the front of the house,” Italy explained. “There's a hole in the wall behind a bookcase I need to get into, except there's a... Ludwig said you called it a mochi? We can't get it to come out. We have to get in there to move on. I thought maybe if you brought it food we might be able to get it to come out?”

“Ah, yes.” Kiku nodded shortly. “Of course, that would make sense. I can bring some and join you, yes.”

“Okay! You should probably just bring everyone with you, if it moves we can just carry on and that might as well have everyone, yeah?”

“I will try. Igirisu will, ah, be high.”

“That's fine,” Italy said and sounded honest. “There's no need to rush, he'll be able to keep up after a few minutes.”

“Then we will be there in a few minutes to join you.” Kiku hung up and shot a worried look at the bathroom again, hoping that Italy was correct. 

“What did he want to know?” China asked.

“He thinks food might get the mochi to leave the wall.”

“Ah, yes!” China agreed. “We have a few things here, certainly. What do you think would be best?”

“I haven't been cooking much, what do yo think might be good?”

China put his hand on his hip. “Well, what do mochi like to eat, aru?”

“I...” Kiku blinked. “I don't think I've ever seen one eat.”

China stared at him, then sighed and started to sort through the bags of food determinedly. “Well, we'll just have to take several things then.”

“Did you get a call from Kankoku?” He expected Korea wouldn't call anyone else if he could help it; China was the only person he really liked in the G20 aside from America.

“Yes,” China said. “That's why I was speaking to Opium, he wanted to ask him some things. He hung up at the first rumble, apparently that was Ruìshì breaking a clock. He wanted to go see what it had done.”

“Suisu is with him?” Kiku startled. Surely he knew India better than Switzerland?

“Yes, and Àodìlì. I don't know why he didn't call Pŭlŭshi himself, but ah, who knows!”

Kiku agreed. He knew very little about Austria, but it explained why they were with Switzerland at least. “Perhaps he was on the phone with Hangari at the time. I did not think Suisu would let his little sister out of his sight. Is she with them?”

“No, she isn't. Hánguó didn't share why, but I believe she is with Xiōngyálì – which makes sense, keeping the two main magic-users with Àodìlì and his wife.”

That did make sense, Japan agreed. Hungary already knew and liked Liechtenstein, and neither South Korea nor Austria tended to settle disagreements by coming to blows, and Hungary and Austria coordinated with each other well. “Who are the other groups?” Japan asked.

“The Northerners – Dānmài and Nuówēi and such – and Xīlà, Tu'kei, Mòxīgē, and Yìndù – those who aren't quite so close together.”

Japan breathed a soft prayer to all the spirits he knew that Greece and Turkey had been on speaking terms for the past decade, otherwise they would have another disaster on their hands. Mexico and India were unlikely to bother mediating for them. “Do you have anything left that's cooked?” he asked instead. “For food.”

“No, nothing warm. I will check in a moment. Do you think the dried blueberries would be good?”

Kiku nodded. “Do you have something to wrap them in?”

“There are handkerchiefs on the counter. How much do you think it would want to eat?”

“It's not very large – a small handful should suffice.” Kiku retrieved one of the handkerchiefs and cupped his hands to catch the berries before tucking it into his pocket. “What else is there?”

“Cabbage, licorice, a salty-smelling licorice...” China listed off. He walked over to the counter and picked up a charred looking brick. “Ah, yes. And Yīngguó's scones.”

Kiku made a face. “When did he manage to cook them? I didn't see him in there.”

“He could have magicked them here for all I know.” China dropped it back on the pile. 

“We could try taking one. I do not know that the mochi has working tastebuds. Perhaps it likes charcoal.”

China snorted but wrapped one in a handkerchief anyways. “So this, and the berries. Do you want to take some licorice as well?”

“That and some cabbage and it will cover most things we have to offer?”

“Very well.” China wrapped them up and then took another handkerchief and made a bundle of the three. “Then we are just waiting on Opium.”

“Yes, let me go tell the others.” Kiku left the kitchen and gathered the rest of the Nations together. By the time he had finished relaying what they'd learned from Italy and South Korea's phone calls, Arthur had finished in the bathroom.

“Is this going to get us out soon?” Arthur asked.

“Itaria seemed to think so.”

“Good. I don't have anymore.”

“Any more what?” Kiku asked, but he could guess.

Arthur glowered at him and waved his drug kit. “Heroin.”

“Ah.” Kiku sighed. “How long before it affects you?”

“Several hours. I'm not going to lose it completely, I've been through withdrawal a dozen times before.” He brushed past him and returned to the beds where he had stowed his things. He picked up his bag with his grimoire in it and came back to the stairs.

“If that's it,” Kiku said, “then yes, everyone should get themselves ready to go.”

Everyone already was. The twelve of them together in the fourth floor attic room was crowded at best; China took the food over to Germany to try and coax out the mochi with America's help. Kiku went over to Italy where he had curled up by the front window.

“How are you doing?” he asked. “You look tired.”

“It's nothing!” Italy smiled back at him and opened his hands. “I found this while we were waiting.”

“Another clock?” Kiku frowned at the innocent looking pocket watch, wishing he didn't have to see another one ever again.

“Yeah. There's one in all the big rooms. We hadn't gotten to here yet.”

“Do you plan to break it?” Kiku asked.

“I don't think we need to.” Italy said. He looked past him and waved gently; Kiku looked and found Germany waving gently back, having moved out of the way of China and America in the corner.

“It would be more complete to do so,” Kiku said.

“It can wait,” Italy insisted. “I'll just put it back for now. We don't need to be even more upset just before...”

“Alright,” Kiku agreed. “We can do it after we open this lock, yes.”

“Yeah.” Italy tucked the clock back into the drawer of the side table.

“Dammit Russia, don't sit there!” Arthur snarled.

Kiku whirled around to see Russia pause by the red chair at the head of the room. “What is the matter, Angliya?”

“Idiot! We don't need you exploding spellwork in the middle of the room! Leave the damn thing alone.”

“The chair is harmless,” Russia said.

“Only to you!”

“Igirisu,” Kiku called. He walked across the room quickly. “What is the matter?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and gestured broadly at the chair in question. “It's spelled to kill anyone who sits down on it. It won't kill him, but that's because he has a habit of making such spell work explode! This would not help us avoid notice and with such a strong spell on such a delicate chair, he'll turn the thing into flying kindling!”

“And your shouting at him is going to give us away less somehow?” Spain drawled.

“Shut your fucking trap, cur!”

Kiku stepped between Arthur and Spain and put his hands on Arthur's chest. “Arthur, please. Try to keep your patience. Roshia, please listen to him when he speaks of magic. Let's all try not to shout, that would be best I think.”

Arthur took a step back, but he kept silent and simply sniffed disdainfully at them all.

“Feliciano, what did you do with the clock?” Germany asked.

“Ah! I put it back,” Italy said. “We don't need to handle it before we get into the next room, it would be too upsetting. We can get to it after, if we still need to!”

“I see.” 

Kiku heard Italy get up and turned to see him lean on Germany's chest. “What's the matter, tesoro?”

“I still do not understand why I am not getting the memories that the rest of you do. It doesn't make sense.”

“Perhaps, Doitsu,” Kiku suggested, “your memories are passing to someone else much like Itaria's go to Romano?”

“I'm not getting his memories, though?” Prussia pointed out. “Who else would it be?”

“Ah...” Italy closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don't know! That's just so odd, isn't it?”

“Déguó took over for a lot of different states, didn't he?” China said.

“Most of them are dead; the rest, too far away to be of any help.” Prussia shot China an unfriendly look.

“Being dead doesn't really stop us that much, not in the traditional sense,” Romano added. “I don't see why the distance would be a problem.”

“Quite frankly, I doubt any of them could get in touch with us where we are now, so stop bringing it up.” Prussia snapped.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up like this,” Germany said. “I was just confused. It doesn't matter that much.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Kiku reassured him. “It is good to know that someone here remembers things clearly at least, so it is not bad that you don't get the memories the rest of us do.”

“Hey, Honda!” America called. “Are you sure this thing eats at all?”

Kiku bowed slightly to Germany and left to crouch by America. “What did you need?”

“It doesn't seem to be interested in food,” America said. He offered the mochi some licorice again and the mochi just tucked further into its hole. “I've tried all of it, even the cabbage!”

“I keep telling you to just drag it out,” Arthur said.

The corner of America's eye twitched, but he gave no other indication he'd heard Arthur speak at all. The mochi pressed itself harder into the wall. 

“Are you sure you tried everything?”

“I think so. Oh, wait, no.” America unwrapped another part of the package China had put together and wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, I forgot he found time to cook that.”

Kiku glanced at Arthur and saw he'd stalked away. “When was this?” he asked instead.

“Oh, while Feliciano was asleep. It doesn't actually take all that long, or that many ingredients to do it.” He broke a piece of the scone off and offered it to the mochi, which eyed it and tried a nibble. “There now, you like it?” America pulled the piece further away from the hole. “C'mon out and you can have all of it. Nobody's gonna try and take it from you.”

The mochi leaned further out of the wall in pursuit of the scone until finally it tumbled out after it. Kiku immediate grabbed a book off the bookcase and placed it over the hole so it couldn't slip back inside. America dropped the scone to the ground and started to pet the creature, crooning happily to it.

Once it got a good bite of the scone, the mochi spat it back out and tried to reverse direction back into the hole. It ran face first into the book. America scooped it up into his arms and tucked it inside the corner of his jacket as he did so, scratching its head as he walked away from the corner making reassuring sounds. 

“Itaria!” Kiku called. “We got it out.”

“You got it? Thank God!” Italy half-ran over and fell to his knees by the hole. He pulled the parts of the key out and dropped them shortly after with a cry. “Oh, oh Honda please, can you...?”

Kiku nodded and checked on America before dropping the book and fitting the pieces of the key together and then into the hole. It was the kind of keyhole generally used for maintanance, more of a socket than a lock, but the apparatus turned all the same.

There was a loud grinding sound from the hallway outside and the floor shook violently. Kiku jerked back from the lock. “Is it an earthquake?”

“No,” Italy said. “Don't be alarmed by the hallway, okay?”

Kiku gave him a very alarmed look, but just swallowed and nodded. “Do I leave the key here?”

“No, let me.” Italy pulled it back out of the socket, broke it apart again and put it into his backpack. “We can hide it again later on.”

“Again?”

Italy froze. His face twisted and settled into a weak smile. “I – I mean, we shouldn't need to. But – just in case, okay?”

“There's another staircase out here!” Romano called.

“Wait for us!” Italy called back. He got to his feet and quickly left the room. Kiku stood and brushed off his pants, grateful he was in Italy's spare jeans instead of something more delicate, and watched as the others trickled out of the room and disappeared up the new staircase. Kiku thought to go check on America, but he wasn't leaving him in the room alone – even though he was quite certain no one else was left besides them.

In the hall, the new stairway was in place of a part of the wall, as if the wall had never been at all. It led up to another floor, to a room lit by the steady yellow glow of old lightbulbs.

He stepped onto the first stair and was overwhelmed with the smell of stale blood. He almost gagged on it and staggered back away from the stairs.

As soon as he was back in the fourth floor hallway, the smell vanished. Kiku stared at the wall.

“Chugoku?” he called. “Itaria?”

“We're here,” China replied. “It's a spell, that's all. We're all fine so far.”

“I see,” Kiku replied. 

“What is it?” Canada asked.

Kiku jumped and cursed, noticing with a start the quiet Nation was standing only a few feet away from him. “I – I'm very sorry, I didn't –”

“See me, I know,” Canada agreed, giving him a sweet smile. “What's with the stairs?” 

“It, ah, smells like blood.”

Canada stepped up onto the first step and looked around curiously. He stepped back and nodded, climbing the stairs again. Kiku quickly caught up with him at the top of the stairs, trying to get used to the smell. He looked around and realized why it was there. Canada was staring at one of the walls, scratching at a dark stain with his knife.

“What...”

“Hm?” Canada turned and stared at him. “I expect the monster has chased people up here before, that's all.”

“No, I mean what are you looking at there.” Kiku stared purposefully at Canada, because if he looked around he'd start to make sense of the patterns of blood and he did not want to do that. The pooled blood at the base of the walls told him enough.

“Seeing how old it is.” Canada brushed off his hands and went to part of the wall without obvious stains of blood.

“Ah. What do you mean?”

“The visible marks are – weeks, months old. There's much older blood, though. Decades, I believe. You don't get the... the old blood smell without it. I'm not sure you'd know it.”

“Know what?”

“What blood smells like that's that old. Arthur keeps you out of his workrooms.”

Kiku stifled an offended noise and glanced at the other exit from the room. The doorway was pitch black. “Where are the others?”

“Through the door. If Feliciano didn't think to warn us of it, it's likely just a threshold spell.”

“What does that mean?”

“It's like the one at the hallway keeping the smell of blood contained, except that one apparently keeps light away.”

“Are you certain?”

“No. It might not let you back out until the stuff inside is done. I'm waiting for Alfred, but go on ahead anyways.”

Kiku made an agreeing noise and looked back at the black archway. 

He did not want to go in. He didn't want to go in at all, but they had to finish this somehow, and it was the only way forward. Softly, he held his breath and walked across the threshold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of heroin use  
> Discussion of food  
> No other content warnings for chapter


	17. Chapter 17

Alfred followed Mattie out of the room a few minutes later, once he thought the mochi was calm enough to leave with him. It started to squirm as he left the room, but it wasn't until he walked towards the staircase that it gave a little shriek and wriggled out of his arms. It was impossible for him to hold onto it; it got out of his arms and darted back into the room he'd just left.

Alfred sighed, but didn't try to go after it; he was already the last one going upstairs. He started up the stairs and coughed a little as he went, glancing around at the top of the stairs.

“What took you?” Mattie asked.

Alfred jumped and stared back at the corner he'd thought he was empty, laughing awkwardly. “Hey! I was trying to bring the mochi with me. It took a while to calm down but when I came near the stairs it took off. Probably was a bad idea to try and take it up here anyways. I'll go back for it later.” He eyed Mattie's bowie knife with a frown. “What were you doing?”

Mattie wiped the knife off on his pants and sheathed it before coming over to hug him. “You worried me,” he said softly. “Don't hang back like that, okay?”

“I'm fine,” Alfred insisted. He pushed Mattie back a little and kissed him gently on the lips. “What was the knife out for?”

Mattie lowered his voice to an undertone. “Some of the blood is barely a couple days old, or weeks, or months; the rest, decades. I don't think anyone's been up here besides us in a very long time.”

“Nothing between?” Alfred asked. He eyed the walls again, considering opening up his Sight all over again, but a house like this... violent death produced ghosts. He wasn't in England anymore; he wasn't naive. He did not want to meet any more ghosts.

“No.” Mattie turned with his arm still around him and walked through the threshold with him. Alfred blinked at the sudden bright fluorescent lights, waiting for his eyes to get used to it. 

Inside, the room was bloody in the same way the first had been: handprints on the wall, human and not, and pooled bloodstains on the floor. Drag marks, too, smears and droplet trails, often between the numbers or from the walls over. Mattie crouched to test those stains, too.

Alfred wasn't up to that kind of analysis. In the centre of the room, Feliciano and Ludwig and Kiku were talking around a small raised platform. Alfred walked over, curious what it was for, and stepped on it. It depressed beneath his foot.

Pain shot up his body, from feet to hair. He jerked back from the button and fell hard on his ass. Everyone around him cursed and flinched; the only two who didn't were Arthur – still much too high on heroin to feel pain – and Francis.

It'd still take more heroin than that for Arthur not to see what he'd done.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Arthur stormed over to him from the wall. “You bloody idiot!”

Alfred scrambled to his feet. “I'm sorry! I didn't realize –”

“What more do you need to see to realize you shouldn't damn well touch anything in this room? You're such an idiot, you don't know anywhere near enough to be of any use here!”

“I'm sorry, please!” Alfred raised his arms and backed up again, looking around frantically for something – anything – to distract him. Explaining what he'd thought – that he'd see things clearer from it – was asking for trouble, because obviously he'd thought wrong. “I'm sorry I fucked up, I didn't mean to, please Arthur!”

“If you'd just shut up and let those of us with any sense work –” 

Kiku stepped into Arthur's path and stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Furansu,” he called, “did you feel anything?”

“Non? There was maybe a bit of static.”

“And you didn't have any of Igirisu's drugs?”

Francis made an offended noise. “Non!”

“Maybe it was because he was standing on one of the numbers?” Mattie suggested. He walked across the room to come stand nearby, and Alfred edged over to place him between Arthur and himself too. “There's a paper stuck on the back wall if that might help?”

“It's a picture,” Feliciano said. “A full moon with an X drawn across it.”

“Do you remember the answer to this?”

“I – technically, but I can't remember the names of the months in Japanese to be certain.”

“The months?” Kiku asked.

“It's based on the Japanese lunar calendar, or something.” Feliciano explained. “Something about the kanji?”

“Ah.” Kiku took on a distracted look for a moment. “Then we'd want someone on every month – number – but for three and twelve?”

Alfred backed up to stand on the six, Mattie at his left on the five. Nervously he watched Arthur's choice, but he went to one – well away from him.

“This is a very disturbing room,” Ivan said. “I have seen few its equal.”

“Now we know we're in trouble,” Yao muttered.

“You'd better get this right the first time,” Romano grumbled. “That fucking hurt.”

“If this is correct,” Kiku began to say.

“It's not,” Mattie interrupted. He stepped off his number and walked to the centre of the room. “We have too many people. We couldn't get through this room with the original group, see?”

“Ah,” Kiku stopped and looked around. Alfred glanced at Feliciano, but he had taken to clinging to Ludwig's arm and wasn't looking at anyone anymore. He scanned the room again and nodded faintly, stepping off the number six. With someone on every number but ten and twelve, it required ten people – leaving no one to hit the switch among the original group.

“If it's not every number but for three and twelve, it would be just someone on three and twelve and one to push the switch,” Mattie explained.

Arthur stepped off his number and made a pleased sound. “Yes, I see it now. You could get through this room even with only one person alive.”

“Arthur, don't,” Mattie said. “And back up more, you're still touching the number.”

Alfred took another step away from his as Francis stepped back onto the number three and Feliciano let go of Ludwig to step onto twelve.

“I should –” Feliciano began, then swallowed. “I should warn you, the next rooms – there's a cell with more of the... monsters inside it. Then the last room, there's a monster guarding the key, but it's slow. It shouldn't be hard with all of us, so just... don't panic. It can use magic, but nothing complicated.”

“Of course it has magic,” Romano muttered. “Why can't the guard for once be slow without distance weapons?”

“Aww, Lovino,” Feliciano laughed weakly. “But you're so good at dealing with them!”

“Does this one have the same weak spot?”

“No,” Feliciano shook his head. “You'll see why not.”

“Is that all we need to know?” Mattie asked.

Feliciano shook his head again, but he was smiling reassuringly. “We'll have time to talk later.”

“Alright then.” Mattie stepped forward onto the button. There was a flash of static, then the wall in the left corner crawled open.

“Once we have the key, can we get out?” Arthur asked.

“We can,” Feliciano said tiredly. “But the cell opens too.”

Alfred immediately ejected the magazine from his gun and replaced with with a fresh clip; the second gun was still full. Mattie gave him a tired smile and caught up to walk holding his hand. Alfred squeezed his hand reassuringly in return.

“Arthur, how much can you do?” Alfred asked.

“I have enough energy to be of some use,” Arthur shot him a smile. “The rooms we've broken clocks in have more ambient energy than the others, and the safe room is teeming with it, comparatively.” He flashed him a piece of paper with an eight-pointed circle on it and Alfred nodded quietly, without answering that he knew that wasn't where he got most of the energy from. He glanced at Francis, but he knew he wouldn't appreciate it if he asked. 

Besides which, they needed Arthur to be able to use magic more than they needed another swordsman. Francis could function tired better than Arthur could with nothing.

The door that had opened led into yet another gaping black hole. Alfred followed the rest of the Nations through the threshold, expecting light on the other side.

There wasn't. 

Something hissed at him from a few feet in front of his face and rattled across metal bars. Alfred gasped and backed up into Mattie's arms, frozen in terror. 

“Alfred,” Mattie whispered. “We need to go. It's behind the bars.”

“R-right.” Alfred swallowed and wiped at his forehead, feeling stupid. He didn't normally get this rattled by shit like that. He squeezed Mattie's hand and touched the wall, finding it reassuringly dry and cool under his hand. 

There was dirty light coming through two windows on the far side of the room, but something kept moving between him and it. Many somethings. One of them rattled its claws across the bars, keeping pace with him for four or five steps; he'd lost count of how far he'd come in the room. He looked back to try and see, but he couldn't actually see the door they'd come in from 

He couldn't see the wall behind them, or where the room ended in front. He was terrified they'd walk in circles, never finding the door – there were spells that could do that – but surely Feliciano would've warned them, right? 

The things in the cell moved closer, giving him a look at a curved, round skull and a flash of their wide eyes, long limbs moving arms and legs, the heights not matching up if they were supposed to have the same proportions. 

“Alfred,” Mattie whispered. “You need to keep walking.”

“I can't see the far wall. What if –” 

“Close your eyes. It's just five more steps, promise. Your hand should find it on the wall.”

Alfred trusted him and did so. He pressed his hand into the wall, clinging to Mattie's hand on the far side and walked forward.

One step. Two. Three. Four. Five.

His hand reached a doorframe, then the open space where a door should be. Alfred opened his eyes, but, as he'd expected, there was another threshold spell. He stepped through the blackness into the other room and looked around.

The room felt simply awful. 

It didn't look awful, not right away. The walls were just rough white plaster with no windows. A couple sets of chains hung on the walls, but there wasn't the massive bloodspatter like the first two rooms. The room didn't reek of blood – it smelled dry and empty, like an unused attic might. He took a deep breath and his throat dried instantly. He collapsed in a fit of coughing so bad Mattie had to drag him to one side, out of the way of the door. He couldn't straighten or open his eyes until Mattie fished out a water bottle and shoved it into his hands. Alfred took a short drink and swallowed gratefully, rubbing at his eyes until they stopped watering and he could straighten his glasses and see. 

When his eyes were clear again, he looked at the floor and froze.

There was red numbers on the floor. Dozens of them, laid overtop of one another, single digits, over and over and over, criss-crossing at crazy angles, each about a foot tall, all across the floor. 

“Feli,” Alfred whispered. “What is this room?”

“The key should be over there,” Feliciano said. 

It sounded like he was speaking underwater. Alfred rubbed at his ears, as they felt like they needed to pop, but all it did was make them hurt worse.

“It's okay, though, it's just behind the monster and this one can't move very fast, see?”

Alfred stopped trying with his ears and looked. He immediately wished he hadn't. 

“Ah,” Mattie said softly. “I see why that – there isn't really a forehead, no.”

The monster in question was a mass of flesh ending in a frill of muscle splayed out around its base. Peppered across its body was a multitude of eyes of different colours and sizes, but all human in shape, with whites and irises, pupils and blinking eyelids. It moved away from the wall with a ripple in the muscle, lifting it from front to back in a wave of movement, the kind you see in a slug or snail, not something as tall as Arthur. There was bloodstains on the wall behind it, where they must've tried to get past and failed.

“Does hitting it in an eye hurt it?” Ivan asked.

“It seems to disorient it,” Feliciano said. “Let me go first, it'll come away from the wall – it can't move that fast, Ludwig, please just trust me.”

Ludwig trusted Feliciano at least halfway, because he stayed back with his gun out as they watched the monster shudder and drag itself away from the wall. It got maybe half a dozen feet from the wall when Feliciano stumbled.

“What? No, no!” Feli gasped. “It can't be! It's not there! How can it not be there!?”

“Feli!” Ludwig called. “Feli, come back!”

“No, no it has to be here! It has to! It's always there, always! What did I do wrong? What did I do?”

Ludwig ran up behind Feliciano. Alfred started forward when the room suddenly went from hot to freezing cold. The room, large enough it had to be spelled to fit under the roof, was no longer empty but for the monster across the way: a dozen creatures of the same greyish skin appeared in the space. Alfred aimed and fired on instinct, vanishing one and aiming for a second. He missed and gave up, darting between the monsters to reach Feliciano's side. 

“Měiguó! Over here!” Yao shouted.

Alfred glanced over Feliciano's shoulder to find Yao and Antonio had one creature pinned between them despite its lunging, snapping its pointed white teeth at their weapons. Alfred hesitated too long, and something slammed into his back, throwing him to the ground at Feli's feet.

“It's gone, it's gone, it's my fault.” Feliciano sobbed. “I can't get you out, I can't. It will never work. I'm so sorry Ludwig, I'm sorry. We're going to die and it's my fault!”

Alfred scrambled to his feet and tried to aim again at the monster between Yao and Antonio, but they'd split up and weren't there anymore. He didn't know if the monster was gone or not. One of his ears felt like it had popped and might be bleeding; the other was a solid ache. He found another creature to aim at, because he could at least get rid of the ones with the weak spot, and as far as he could tell the room looked much more clear. 

The ground shook beneath them, and what space had opened up filled with new monsters all over again. Alfred's other ear popped and he could feel the blood running down his neck. He felt like he was trying to hear underwater for a good ten seconds before it got better, and he thanked God for little benefits like that from being an Empire.

“What makes them keep coming?” Ludwig cursed. “Where are they even coming from?”

“Me,” Feliciano whimpered. “They're coming for me. You're going to get killed protecting me, please, you need to stop.”

“Don't be ridiculous!” Alfred snapped. 

“We're going to get out of here, okay?” Ludwig pleaded. “We just have to make it out the door, if we can just get downstairs...”

“We're not going to make it!” Feliciano cried. “We can't get out, we can't! They're not going to stop! You have to let me go!”

“C'mon Feli, please, don't say that!” Alfred said. “Let us help!”

“It's me they want! They will kill you to get to me!”

“I don't care!” Ludwig snapped.

Alfred fired his gun, only to stumble as Ludwig bumped into his back. He turned and saw Feliciano raise the journal between them.

“Get me out of here!” Feliciano snapped. 

The diary flashed; Alfred jumped forward beside Ludwig to grab onto his arm. Feliciano jerked away from Alfred, into Ludwig's arms, and the room flashed white. Alfred slammed into the floor on his stomach, gasping for air. He swallowed the pain and pushed himself up. One of the monsters, a head fused with a short pair of legs, stumbled towards him and Alfred rolled onto his side to aim and fire at it, vanishing it into thin air.

The room behind it was empty, and also not the attic. 

Alfred pushed himself up to his knees and scanned the room. The floor and ceiling were both stone, the walls creased white wallpaper. There was no blood stains, no other monsters; just a large coffee table, two couches, and several bookcases. It was definitely still inside the mansion, but it wasn't the room he'd been in before. 

He didn't feel out of breath anymore. Quickly, he got to his feet and ran out the door, recognizing that hallway as part of the basement. He turned right at the crossroads and went upstairs, halting before the door at the top of the stairs to check his guns. 

One clip had four bullets, the other, six. The clips in his pockets had nothing and nine. He switched out the four bullet clip for the nine, pocketing the others again and making a mental note to refill them so they were all in one clip when he had more time, and to ask Mattie if he had more.

Fifteen bullets: as much as he normally had in one full clip. He scowled and left the basement, going straight up the stairs to the fourth floor. He could hear doors around him opening and closing, but nothing waylaid him as he tried to get back to Mattie and the others.

When he reached the front hallway on the fourth floor, however, the staircase was no longer there. Alfred touched the wall in disbelief, then slammed his fist into it. “Dammit! Goddammit! Open up!” 

He ran into the far room and checked the lock, but there was nothing there, not even the mochi. He rushed back to the wall and stopped, taking a slow breath and opening his Sight, hoping he'd be able to get through this before anything interrupted him. He shook, wanting to hit the wall again, but if he broke it he might damage the spells and then they'd never get back out. 

Once he felt he had a grip on it, he opened his eyes again. Immediately, they started to water, the magic too bright, lines repeating over and over again on the same designs. First he had to discard the magic maintaining the house itself, the wards against damage that constantly worked to repair anything that went wrong. The spells that prevented the inside layer of the wall from ever breaking at all. There was much more that was irrelevent, useless, and even no longer in use.

He almost missed the spells he needed to see, they were so faint. Tucked under all the rest, sitting with the other inert works, the pathway to the fifth floor was just more spells that had been used maybe once in decades. 

Alfred took a step towards the wall, struggling to understand. He'd just gone up those stairs not even an hour ago. He touched the wall, but that didn't help, so he went into the room at the far end, just in case he wasn't seeing things properly. The walls had much the same spells on them: repair, prevention of damage, wards, and the excess. The red chair at the head of the room had similar work and as he looked he could see why Arthur had called it clumsy, the lines very simple and brief and the collection feeling incomplete as he tried to follow it to its end use.

The lock behind the bookcase was easier to see the spells on it, and those were even more obviously inactive. He could see that it was a little brighter than it would've been had it never been activated at all, but it was much older than an hour ago. It wasn't just hiding or dormant; it simply hadn't been used. 

“What are you looking at?” a girl asked.

Alfred swallowed. Here they were. He turned around and smiled, surprised to only see the girl who'd spoken. “Nothing much,” he answered in Japanese. He moved the bookcase back into place and stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Hello! Who are you?”

“I'm Chiyo,” she smiled. “When did you get back here?”

“Really recently,” he answered. He looked around behind her, but she really was alone. It should've been obvious to every ghost in the house he wasn't shielded anymore. He didn't know why it was just her. “How long ago was I here before now?”

“You've been here many times. You're doing so well, you know, but I don't think you heard me tell you – Oh!” Chiyo's expression went straight into shock and she looked towards the front of the house. “I think you just arrived, actually.”

Alfred turned towards the front window nervously, but he walked over to it and stared down at the lawn. Walking up from the front gate was Ludwig, Feliciano, Ivan, Yao, Kiku – and himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for abusive FACE family dynamics  
> Brief mention of heroin use  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	18. Chapter 18

Ludwig landed hard on the tatami floor, Feliciano tucked into the circle of his arms. He sat up quickly, searching the room for where they were and if they were in danger or not. Feli wrapped his arms around Ludwig's chest and sobbed into his shirt.

“Hurts, it hurts,” Feli gasped.

“Feli?” Ludwig tried to look him over, almost panicked with worry. “Feli, are you hurt? What's wrong?”

Feliciano shook his head and held onto him tighter. Ludwig looked around again, but the room was empty except for them. They were on the first floor, in the back room to the left of the stairs. He couldn't hear anything else in the house, and he had no idea what had happened to everyone upstairs but he was realistic: it would probably be easier for them without having to worry about him and Feliciano. They had been doing no one any good there.

“It's okay,” Ludwig said. “We're okay, Feli, we're not there anymore.” He ran his hand over Feliciano's hair, focusing only on him as Feliciano cried. When Feli had stopped gasping with each sob, Ludwig glanced around them again and bit his lip.

“Feli, where's your journal?”

Feliciano pulled his head away from Ludwig's chest and looked around and between them. Ludwig began to feel a sinking feeling. Feli wiped at his eyes and sat back on his heels with a soft whimper. 

“Oh no, oh God,” Feli whispered. “We need to find it.”

“Right,” Ludwig swallowed. “We should go, then.”

Feliciano nodded and stood up, reaching down for Ludwig's arm and dragging him up after so he could continue to cling to him.

“Should we go check on the others?” Ludwig asked.

Feliciano shook his head, then hesitated. “The journal might have...”

Ludwig swallowed and nodded. Feliciano didn't look sure at all, but Ludwig didn't have any other ideas about where it might be. He walked to the front entry, careful of how well Feliciano was keeping up with him. He looked up and stared as the front door pulled open. 

“What –?”

Feliciano looked and then dragged him back behind the wall and out of sight. Ludwig stared down at him, only to have Feliciano put his hand over his mouth and look around the corner himself. 

“No... oh no, no it can't be,” Feli whispered.

“What is it?” Ludwig asked

“It's – us.”

“What?” Ludwig turned to look around the edge of the corner as well. Just inside the front door, Ludwig saw Feliciano – a second Feliciano – standing next to a copy of himself and dragging fretfully on his arm.

“Please,” the other Feli begged. “I told you, we have to stay together! It's not just rumours, this place is going to try to kill us! You can't go off alone!”

“This is ridiculous,” China said. “This is Opium we're talking about, a few spirits are not going to hurt the man. He dragged Pŭlŭshi with him! I don't care what nightmares your midday snack gave you, don't take it out on us!”

“It's not nightmares!” Feliciano snapped. “Powerhouse or not, Bretagna took Canada and Francia and Prussia with him and he doesn't look out for anyone but himself.”

“Which means we still have to find them,” China carried on firmly. “I will meet you here later, when you're more reasonable.”

“I will go with Kitay,” Russia said. “We will see you in an hour.”

“I don't need your help,” China snapped.

“I am not helping. I am looking for Kanada and Prussiya this way that you went.” His voice disappeared down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“I'm going here, okay?” Ludwig heard himself say. He went to the left and opened a door – the basement, because there wasn't any other door that close. 

“Ludwig, no!” Feliciano moaned. He darted towards the spot and stopped, hyperventilating. “Alfred –”

“I'm going up to the second floor,” Alfred said, an apologetic smile on his face. “Someone has to check it out. You should go with Ludwig, okay? We'll meet you here soon, promise. C'mon Kiku!” 

“You can't,” Feliciano reached after them and swallowed hard. “There's a room with a piano, if Giappone leaves your sight we'll forget him – Alfred!”

“I'll keep an eye on him. Germany's the only one alone, Feli. Bring him upstairs and we'll stick together after, okay?” Alfred's footsteps disappeared upstairs with Japan. 

Feliciano was left alone at the bottom of the stairs. Beside him, his Feliciano squeezed Ludwig's hand gently and Ludwig squeezed back, relieved to know he was still there like he remembered. The one left alone in the entryway opened and closed his mouth, tears rolling down his cheeks. He swallowed and closed off his face before smiling at nobody and darting towards the basement door. Ludwig heard it open and close, and the front end of his happy call for his Ludwig to wait.

The door shut, loud in the silence.

“I'm sorry,” Ludwig whispered.

Feliciano pushed him back against the wall and ran his hands down his chest with a sad smile. “I didn't take the time to explain,” he said carefully. “I didn't realize how – we're so used to being so strong, we forget we can die if something's bigger than we are. I didn't know it was just too much to explain, not yet.”

“Yet?”

Feliciano swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. I only tried that once, the – the second time.”

Ludwig swallowed and laced his hands behind Feliciano's back. “Ah. Who...”

“America and England and China died,” Feli closed his hands on his shirt, his arms shaking. “China first. Then America and England, together. We should go upstairs to the white room – the piano room. I kept everyone out as best I could.” Feliciano bit his lip, but he stopped shaking and smoothed out Ludwig's shirt for him. 

“Is this what the memories are like?” Ludwig asked. 

“Not, it's not –”

“What are you doing here already?” England said.

Feliciano yelped and spun, pressing his back into Ludwig's chest. England shut the door behind the stairs behind himself and scowled at them.

“When did you get here?” he continued.

“Oh – just a minute ago!” Feliciano laughed. “We were wondering where you'd gotten to!”

“You must've left just after we did,” England scowled.

“Where are the others?” Ludwig asked.

England scoffed. “We split up. Francis got excited about something upstairs and Mattie refuses to leave him. We can't get most of the doors open anyways. I'll run into them again eventually. Who came with you?”

“Oh, you know, the rest of them!” Feliciano laughed lightly and waved the question off himself, acting more and more like he did at meetings. 

“I haven't run into that monster you were so panicked about, by the way,” England said with a pointed look.

“I know, I'd just had a nightmare that's all! Anyways, I wanna go upstairs!” 

Feliciano grabbed onto Ludwig's hand and dragged him around the corner and up the stairs. Ludwig followed without comment, more worried than he had been before. At the top of the stairs, Feliciano looked up and down the hallways quickly before hurrying around to the next flight and up into the piano room. He shut the door and flicked the lock before pushing Ludwig up against the wall and kissing him hard. 

Ludwig held him tightly back until they parted to breathe. “Are you sure you're alright?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” Feliciano leaned his head against his shoulder. “I'm sorry, I just – why did it have to be him?”

“I don't know.” Ludwig ran his hand over Feliciano's hair, looking nervously around the room. It was hard to believe they were in a different time, except that he could see the piano keys from here and the coloured numbers were gone. There was four black numbers on the keys and the edges of a bloodstain. “We really are in the past, aren't we?”

“Yes,” Feliciano breathed. “I don't know what happened. It's never done that before.”

“Have you asked the journal to do things like... that... before?”

“No.” He shook his head firmly. “It's – unpredictable, so I try not to. This is unusually bad.”

“We still need to find it.”

Feliciano simply nodded against his chest and shuddered. Ludwig let his legs relax and slid down the wall to sit at the base. Feliciano curled up in his lap and started to cry in his arms. 

“We can wait here until they regroup, right?” Ludwig said gently. “It'll be easier to avoid attracting their notice.”

Feliciano nodded in his arms and curled up more in his lap, holding onto him like a lifeline. Ludwig held him close and glanced back towards the door. It would be better if they were across the room, but they were seated. It would do. He wasn't going to ask Feliciano to move.

He would keep them safe.

IIII

“Can't you make it turn around?” Canada hollered.

Kiku threw himself into a forward roll, ducking under a creature's arm and came up to thrust his sword into the joint of arm and chest. Prussia cursed and jumped out of reach.

“Sure thing, little Frankreich, I'll talk it right around!” Prussia yelled.

“You are in the same direction I'm aiming, Prusse,” Canada retorted.

Kiku sighed and twisted to stab the monster's wrist, keeping it away from Prussia. Canada fired and the creature vanished off his sword. He caught the bolt out of the air and threw it back to Canada before pointing to another. “Puroisen?”

Prussia's face lit up like fire. “Got it!”

They repeated the exercise, and Canada got his shot in a bare minute. Kiku backed up another step and suddenly the air he was breathing hurt his lungs. He cough and turned, but the pain in his throat remained; ten feet behind him, one of the many-eyed monsters was crawling towards them. There was a roar and the crackle of electricity, and the creature lit up in white lightning and vanished with a reek of gasoline. Kiku shot Arthur a relieved bow and got a huge smile in return as Arthur shook out his hand. He turned and threw a thin bolt of fire to vanish another of them. 

“Honda, here!” Prussia called. Kiku swallowed against another shot of pain in his throat and raced across the room to join him; they'd dispensed with so many the room was nearly empty now. Prussia ran up to join Spain, trapped between two at once, leaping up one's back and stabbing it through the throat.

“Christ!” Romano shouted. “I almost fucking shot you, you goddamn idiot!”

“Sweet of you to care!” Prussia replied.

“If I shoot you, I want it to be on purpose!”

“Lovino, get this one, please?” Spain slammed the second monster into the wall and Romano fumbled his handgun to fire at its head and missed.

“Shit!”

“Take it easy, bonito.”

“I said don't call me that,” Romano complained, and fired again. He didn't miss.

Kiku slapped down the hand of the monster Prussia was still clinging to, stopping it from grabbing him and throwing him off. Canada had prepared his crossbow again and Prussia jumped down. A second later, the crossbow bolt hit home and Spain caught it as it fell.

“I never thought a bow would be the best weapon in the house,” he said. 

“I would not have thought, no,” Kiku agreed. 

“England, look out!” Prussia shouted.

Kiku turned rapidly and saw Arthur turn as well to see the creature running up behind him. Arthur threw a fireball into its face and the creature halted in place. Someone's gun fired, and it vanished; Arthur looked over his shoulder and scowled.

“I had it in hand,” he snapped.

“It was a favour,” Russia replied. “That is all of them?”

Kiku went silent and looked around the room, swallowing another shudder of pain in his lungs; whatever he'd inhaled hadn't vanished with the monsters. The space was finally empty again, at least. He did a rapid headcount.

“That was exhausting!” Romano groaned. “What the Hell did that happen for? I thought they'd attack us in the hallway!”

“I do not know,” Kiku said. Prussia, Spain, Romano, Arthur, Russia and himself were all still standing. Behind them, France was checking on China where he lay against the wall, Canada's hand pressed to his shoulder. “...Where are Itaria, Doitsu, and Beikoku?”

“What the Hell!?” Prussia shouted.

“Maybe they escaped to the antechamber?” Spain suggested.

Prussia started for the door, only to Spain to push him back and go first, his axe held out front of himself. Kiku followed them, Arthur at his shoulder. Romano pushed past them before they'd gotten halfway through the second room.

There was no one in the first room, or the antechamber. Prussia, Spain and Romano were standing at the bottom of the stairs when they finally stopped, Romano nearly in tears.

“They have to be here somewhere!” he cried. “They have to be!”

“We can search the mansion again,” Kiku said calmly. “We'll make groups of three again, assuming China is able to walk soon.”

“I am not waiting!” Romano snapped

Kiku started to reply, only for his phone to ring. He glanced at it, then did a double-take and answered. “Moshi-moshi, Kankoku?”

“What did you guys just do?” Korea snapped.

“Pardon?” Kiku coughed and swallowed, his throat still in pain.

“A dozen of those monsters just appeared outside from nowhere! What happened?”

“Ah,” Kiku held up his hand to forestall more questions from Spain. “We opened another room inside. There was many of them in a cell that was opened by our attempts.”

“Couldn't you have warned us?”

“I do not believe Itaria anticipated it would affect you outside.”

“Is China still in the new room? I can't get through to his phone or Alfred's.”

“Hai,” Kiku glanced at the staircase again. That explained why Korea was calling him, then.

Korea's voice faded and grew harsh, “Don't walk away from me, I cannot protect you if you're not next to me... Can you not call them yourself?” He sighed heavily and his voice came directly into the phone again. “Oseuteulia would like me to ask if anyone can get into the annex at the back of the building. The windows there are not barred.”

“Have you assessed if the walls are spelled like they are here?” Kiku asked. He glanced at Prussia, but he was checking his phone anyways and didn't appear to have seen if Austria had tried calling him or not.

“I haven't seen it myself yet. He just came back to find me from Heonggari's group with Seuwiseu. Ah – he's back. I will call when I know.” Korea hung up on him.

“Who was that?” Arthur asked. 

“Osutoria says there is an annex attached to the back of the house,” Kiku explained. “It looked like we might have an easier time breaking out from there.”

“Interesting,” England's eyes unfocused. “That... could work, yes. That would be the building whose attic we're using for safety then. If the spells there are that much weaker, we may be well-off...”

“Should we look for a way in?” Kiku asked. He moved out of the way as China came down the stairs, Canada at his side and looking worried.

“We're already going to be searching the mansion again,” Arthur answered. “There's no reason not to see if we notice another hidden passage while we're at it.”

“If we are all here, then, we should decide our groups of three,” Kiku raised his voice a little to get everyone's attention. “We can meet back at the saferoom in an hour?”

“We should arrange groups that are two with swords and one without,” England suggested.

“Six of us have swords, or similar,” Kiku said. “How is your magic?”

“More helpful than Romano's aim.”

“Shut up!” Romano snapped.

“Regardless of your accuracy,” China retorted, “I will not be in your group, Yīngguó.”

“I was not going to ask you to,” England growled.

“Be that as it may,” Kiku interrupted. “Chugoku, you and Roshia can take Kanada with you. Igirisu, you and Furansu can go with, ah, Supein?” 

“He is not going with him!” Romano planted himself between Spain and England.

“I will be fine, Lovino.” Spain ruffled his hair and hugged his shoulders. “I trust you and Prusia with Japon. François and I will be fine.”

Romano turned around and hugged him tightly. Kiku averted his eyes to glance at Prussia and confirm he agreed. Prussia nodded back and Kiku exhaled in mild relief. His chest tightened in pain again, but he could wait to worry about that. Poison could not kill a Nation.

“If we are all in agreement, we should go,” he said.

“We'll take the top two floors,” England said. “There's the most magic up here, aside from the basement. I'll be most likey to notice something hiding here.”

“We can take the second floor,” Russia said. “It will be no problem.”

“Alright. Then we'll be on the ground floor.” Kiku glanced at everyone again, trying not to worry about whether they could stay on task or not. “We will meet in the safe room in an hour, then, and go on to the basement from there if we haven't found them by then?”

“No one is going into the basement without telling me,” England snapped. “We do not need to lose someone else down there again.”

“Aiyaa!” China covered his ears. “You are not in charge, stop giving yourself airs Opium! You are not the greatest Empire of the world!”

Kiku turned and walked away. Prussia, behind him, called Romano to follow them and his footsteps quickly caught up. Kiku had done what he could with the others, he wanted to start looking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for this chapter.


	19. Chapter 19

Ludwig checked his watch and gently stroked Feliciano's hair out of his face. “Lieben, its time.”

Feliciano lifted his head from his chest and gave him a confused look. “What...?”

“You said our... past selves should be together now? We need to find your journal. You remember, right?”

“Oh.” Feliciano sat up straight in his lap. “I... I think so. I'm sorry I fell asleep.”

“You haven't slept long,” Ludwig lied. “You needed to rest, Feli, it's okay.” He cupped his lover's face with a smile and kissed his lips. Feliciano leaned into him and kissed back, but he got up a moment later and offered Ludwig his hand. Ludwig accepted and kept a hold of it as Feliciano led the way out the door.

They got halfway down the stairs when they heard China speaking in the hallway.

“We were attacked,” François said.

“Where's Déguó and Yìdàlì?”

“Inside still, with Prusse,” François paused, then, “Italie defeated it, but... he didn't make it.”

Feliciano's nails dug into Ludwig's palm.

“What is that book you have?” England asked.

“This?” China replied. “It was in the library. It just appeared there, when were were about to leave.”

“No,” Feliciano whispered. “It's not ours, but – if that's where it was...”

“After,” Ludwig whispered. He stepped up and slid an arm around Feliciano's waist as they listened.

“It's a journal,” England continued. “What's this – the first page... He signed it, as Italia Veneziano.”

“What kind of contract is that?” François asked. 

“...The first pages are that of a spellbook,” England said. “About how to go back in time.”

“West, wait!” Gilbert yelled. 

“England, it can't be true.”

Ludwig winced at the sound of his own voice. Feliciano stroked his hand over his arm, then wrapped his own arms over his.

“He can't be dead,” the other Ludwig said. “Why is everyone saying he's dead?”

“Germaniya,” Russia said. “Your denial will do nothing.”

“You would benefit from everyone thinking Italien is dead! You stole my brother once already!”

“Ludwig!” Gilbert shouted.

“I have no interest in your lover or your brother here,” Russia said coldly. “Be silent until you come to your senses. Angliya, can you do something with the spell you found?”

“If I could raise the power for it, yes.”

“We can discuss it once you know what you need. Let Germaniya join us when he is done with his grief.”

“Don't mock me!”

“Enough!” Gilbert roared. 

There was sudden silence, then Ludwig heard himself whimper, “Brother...”

“That's enough, West,” Gilbert said, gentler. “You're not the only one grieving. We need to do something, we can't be screaming at each other like this. It's not safe. You can stay here if you like, but you have to stop interrupting everyone else.”

“I – I'm sorry.”

“I know,” Gilbert's voice cracked. “I miss him too.”

Feliciano shivered in his arms and Ludwig clung to him tighter, feeling ashamed by his past self's behaviour. A moment later, he heard footsteps near the stairwell and quickly tugged Feliciano upstairs. They ducked into the library and waited until the footsteps had passed them by. They glanced out, then went downstairs. Ludwig glanced into the hallway at the front of the house. With no one in sight, he started around the stair well, Feliciano at his back.

A door opened and shut in the hall behind them, and the second Germany called “Feli?”

Feliciano ran into his back and passed him, dragging Ludwig by the hand into the room at the top of the stairs. The past Germany called his name again even after Feli shut the door. Ludwig looked around the room, but the curtain was still over the closet at the far corner.

“He saw me! He saw me, shit!” Feliciano dug his hands into his hair. “He's coming this way, you have to hide!”

“Come with me?” Ludwig tugged Feli's hand towards the closet.

“No, no! He'll search for me, just let me try!” Feliciano pushed him towards it. “Go!”

Ludwig went, but he crouched by the curtain, watching him through the slit between curtain and wall as the past Germany opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. His expression shifted to pure relief.

“You're not dead... I knew you couldn't be dead. Feli...”

“Ludwig, stop.” Feliciano said. He clenched his hands, then raised them, placating and shifting in place. “You know better than this, tesoro. You saw me die.”

“No! You can't – you can't die, not like that. You need to come back with me, so we can tell the others...”

“We can't.” Feliciano took a small step forward, his hands open. “You know what you saw, Ludwig.”

“You can't die! Nations can't die!”

“You know that's not true.”

The past Germany bared his teeth. “Why are you doing this to me? Is this a game to you, is that it?”

Feliciano jerked back as though struck. “What? You think I'm doing this to mock you?”

“If you're dead, how can you be here?”

“Why are any of us here!?” Feliciano shouted. “We're trapped, Ludwig! We can't leave, even if we die!” He choked and covered his face. “Let me go, please. Go to your brother. Take care of him. Please, Ludwig, please for me. Take care of him for me. Let me go.”

“I can't.” The past Germany moved to touch Feliciano's shoulder. Ludwig tensed in the closet, ready to defend him, when Feliciano's hand snapped up to knock the touch aside.

“You're keeping me here,” Feli said. His voice was like ice. “I need to move on. If this is a dream, you'll wake up. If not, you'll rot here waiting for it to end. You have to go, Ludwig. Let me go.”

The past Germany jerked back with a stricken look. “Ah. I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...”

Feliciano relaxed minutely. “I know you didn't mean to. You'll be okay, I promise. You can do this. Please just go.”

“I'm sorry. I should've just let you... rest in peace.”

“It's okay. You'll get out.” Feliciano laughed, his voice warm and happy again. “We'll all get out. Go see your brother and everything will be alright, okay?”

“Yes. I...” the past Germany moved as if to touch Feliciano's face. Feli flinched back from him and his hand fell. “I'm sorry. I won't hurt you anymore. I need to...” His eyes fell on the closet and Ludwig tensed, hoping he didn't want to come in now. “I need to go. I have things I should do, but you're right. I should go to Gilbert first. He needs me too.”

He turned and left the room. Feliciano's shoulders sagged, and Ludwig came out of the closet.

“Feli?” he asked.

Feliciano jumped and turned to face him. He dropped into his arms and buried his face in his chest. 

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for that, I didn't want to be so mean to you, tesoro.”

“He needed to hear it,” Ludwig said. He stroked Feliciano's back and held him as if he could keep him with him by force of will. “I know you said it because he needed it, not because you meant to hurt me.”

“I needed him to leave,” Feliciano agreed. “But it was still mean.”

“I know why you're mean whenever it happens, Feli. I know you don't do it with no reason.” Ludwig looked out of the room and frowned. “If there's no rush, I might like to... see the room.”

“What room?” Feli asked.

“Where he died.”

“Who... oh.” Feliciano hesitated. “If you're sure. I have something I want to see in here, so come back when you're done?”

“In the safe room?”

“Yes.” Feliciano stepped back and went into the closet.

Ludwig watched him go, uncertain if he should take the risk, but he wanted to see it for himself. It felt unreal, to think that they could die in here. He wanted to know for sure.

Getting to the front room felt longer than it should have. He looked over his shoulder repeatedly, fearful one of the others might come back for something or that the monster might show up. Perhaps it vanished with Feliciano's death, but... it seemed unwise to believe it. He saw no reason it would have, so he watched. 

The room was chilly but smelled like flowers. Ludwig stared at the array of bouquets and single stem roses surrounding Feliciano, confused how anyone had gotten them in here. Were they from England? He couldn't imagine he would grieve. He stepped carefully around the flowers to kneel beside the body. Feliciano was covered by his own long coat, and the flowers almost masked the smell of violent death. Reflexively, Ludwig stroked the edge of his hair back and jerked back from the touch of cold skin.

He pressed his palms into his knees. “I'm sorry,” he began. “That I couldn't keep it together. I'm not sure I ever could, I'm not...” 

It was so odd, speaking to him without a response. Ludwig cleared his throat and started again. “I hope this helped me to... handle the room we're using so well. I suspect that's what you – my Feli – is doing right now, although he doesn't have to. I...” he laughed weakly. “I wish you could see it. You will see it. It's everything you could've wanted. You've done so much... I try to be there for you. I hope you get some comfort from me being here now.”

Ludwig stayed kneeling where he was, uncertain what else he could say but knowing he wasn't ready to leave. In another few minutes, however, it felt complete and he got up and stepped carefully around the flowers to leave.

Feliciano was standing outside the room at the top of the stairs, staring nervously up and down the hallway. He smiled brightly when he saw Ludwig and darted up. “Hello again! Did you have a nice visit?”

“Yes, I did. It looked... very nice.”

“I'm glad! I know how much you all care for me, I'm sure it would've been handled very well.” Feliciano ran his hands up Ludwig's arms and kissed him quickly on the lips. “We need to start looking again, the journal could be anywhere – oh! Oh no!” 

Ludwig turned to look and froze at the sight of Alfred staring down the hall at them with a stunned expression. His eyes flicked over Feli's shoulder and back down, but when Ludwig looked nothing was there. 

“Feli...?” Alfred began.

“No, no its not –” Feliciano began.

“Do you remember the last thing we signed...?” Alfred stopped approaching and put his hands in his pockets with a nervous grin.

“Oh!” Feliciano smiled. “Oh yes, I'm sorry, that was – very recent, wasn't it?”

“Yeah, here. In that room,” Alfred ran over and hugged him. “Thank God, I thought so but I wasn't sure at all! This is so weird, what loop are we in!?”

“The second one,” Feliciano hugged him and pushed him off gently. “We're in the one you saw, where I died.”

“Ah, so that's why Ludwig's kinda red in the face.”

Ludwig bit his lip and wiped awkwardly at his face. He hadn't really noticed he'd been crying.

“He went to say goodbye,” Feliciano said. “I had to talk the – the past Germania into leaving after he saw me. It was so hard to send him away!”

“I'll bet!” Alfred jerked back and laughed a little. “Do you guys have any idea how we can get back? I have no ideas and the upstairs room is closed off still!”

“If we get the journal back, it might take us but I don't know where ours is and if we take the one from this loop...” Feliciano stopped unhappily.

“Then no one can go back in time here, yeah,” Alfred agreed. “I thought so too.”

“How can they reverse time now, if you aren't here to do it?” Ludwig asked.

Feliciano bit his lip and stared at the ground, his hands moving unhappily.

The floor began to shake beneath them. Alfred looked up at the floor above and laughed a little nervously. “I think I can answer that,” he said.

“What is it?” Ludwig asked.

“It's Arthur.”

Feliciano jerked back. “He said he didn't know how when I asked.”

“He can copy them out of your journal.”

“I saw nothing in there of that.”

Alfred was still staring at the floor above with an edge of horror on his face. He braced himself on the wall; Ludwig pulled Feliciano against his chest and braced himself.

“He's not just reading the book,” Alfred said, his tone conversational as the shaking got progressively worse. Lights flashed in the corners of Ludwig's eyes and his ears began to ache. “He can build the spell from the magic on it already, as a kind of template or – suggestion. And as long as he has that and a target and enough power...”

Something crashed upstairs and a deep rumble echoed throughout the house. Ludwig's vision whited out, over and over, until it abruptly stopped. His vision had a haze of purple over it, and he was shivering uncontrollably. 

Alfred straightened from the wall and rubbed at his arms. “I don't know when we are now, but it's over.”

“That was... that was dreadful,” Feliciano said. “Is all his magic like that?”

“Kind of.” Alfred's tone was vague – too vague – but he moved past them to stare down the stairs into the front entry. “Ah, yes.”

“What is it?” Feliciano asked.

“We're just inside the mansion.”

Ludwig let go of Feliciano and crouched to peer down the stairs himself. He could hear the murmur of voices as Feliciano and China argued at the base of the stairs.

“Why now?” Ludwig asked.

“The moment the journal entered the house. It'd be the simplest point in time to use as a target.”

“We shoud go,” Feliciano said weakly. “Someone will come upstairs very soon.”

“Right,” Alfred turned away. “Where do we go?”

“The piano room again,” Ludwig said. “He kept everyone out of it.”

“Okay, good,” Alfred laughed. “Much better than a closet.”

IIII

Kiku inhaled and had to wince as the pain choked him yet again. He leaned on the counter in the kitchen so he didn't fall.

“What's wrong, Honda?” Prussia asked.

“It's nothing.” He pushed off the wall with a sigh as the pain faded. It was fading faster, he was sure, but he hadn't metabolized it as quickly as he'd thought he might. 

“You got poisoned, didn't you?” Romano came out of the pantry. “I inhaled a bit too.”

“Fuck, you're not better from that?” Prussia laughed, one hand going to a bruise on his neck.

“How the fuck can you laugh at this?” Romano said. “I had things I was gonna do today, dammit. They're not in this room, can we go now?”

“Yes,” Kiku said. He walked out of the kitchen with a sigh. They'd been over every wall in the front hallway; the kitchen had been the last. They moved behind the stairs and Kiku started again on the wall into the back as Romano and Prussia spread out over the tatami floor. It was hard to focus. He was feeling more and more sure they must be in the basement – there was nowhere else they could reasonably have gotten stuck this long – but Arthur was correct that a larger group than three was necessary to cope with the bottleneck it created.

He checked his phone's reception nervously, but it was still strong and no one had called him. If they'd woken up, surely someone would've thought to call? They got reception in the basement after all...

“Hey, Giappone, is this supposed to move like this?” Romano asked.

Kiku looked over and Romano pushed on a panel of the wall dividing the room into the walkway and the two semi-separated rooms behind. It flexed in at the bottom corner as Romano pressed on it.

“This,” he repeated. “Should it be moving?”

Kiku want over and ran his fingers along the edges before pushing in the corner himself. The air below smelled different from that of an empty wall. The wall itself was wider than normal, large enough for shelves, he'd assumed, but he stood and slid the panel open and it wasn't shelves it hid. The space was empty except for the top of a ladder leaned up against the edge of the floor. 

“I did not realize this was here,” Kiku said.

“Looks like we might've found a way into the annex?” Prussia said.

“We can hope,” Kiku agreed. “I believe we should have a flashlight before we go down."

“We need to let them know we found it anyways,” Prussia said. “Pull it shut and we'll finish looking behind the staircase, alright?”

Kiku nodded thoughtfully and shut the door for what good it would do. He followed Prussia and Romano into the back hallway, but he didn't expect to find them there. He was starting to believe they were still in the house less and less as time went by, and that worried him. 

If they weren't here, then where were they? And how would they get back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Off-screen character death.  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.


	20. Chapter 20

Alfred stared at the floor of the piano room and traced what he thought was a spell line. He wasn't sure that it was – his view of it flickered unpredictably, blurring into the rest of the magic soaked into this room – but there wasn't that many options. He glanced at the piano again, but it hurt his eyes so he stopped. He hadn't realized how... literal Arthur had been when he called this room a hub, but there was a column of light straight through the piano that sank into the ceiling and floor and spread out into the rest of the house. He was at least a little better off than Arthur: he could see shapes in the room at least.

He'd already yelled at Feliciano and Ludwig to not lean on the piano, so they were now up against the wall again and wrapped around each other like nothing else mattered. It made him miss Mattie even more, and he hoped they made it back this time.

His watch started to beep and Alfred turned off the alarm and got up. “It's been an hour,” he said. “We should go.”

“Right.” Feliciano stepped back from Ludwig reluctantly. “I think we should start in the downstairs library, it seems like that it would be...”

The door opened. Alfred darted up level with Feliciano and Ludwig, gun drawn, only to halt once he saw the intruder clearly through the haze of magic. “Arthur? What are you doing here?”

Arthur looked up at him and then winced sharply, the lines of magic in the room latching onto him somehow. He had a paper in hand and a red book in the other.

“Ah. Of course you're here,” Arthur drawled.

“What is it?” Alfred snapped.

“England?” Ludwig said, his tone soft and mollifying. “What are you doing here?”

Arthur shot Ludwig an unfriendly look. “What do you think I'm doing? You've been here the whole time; you know what I did.”

“I'm not sure I understand,” Feliciano said cautiously. “What did you do?”

Alfred stared at the magic a moment longer, walking closer to Arthur as he tried to understand until he suddenly realized he was hurt. “Arthur, you're bleeding!” he yelped. He touched Arthur's shoulder to see what it was, only for Arthur to push him back with his injured arm.

“I know,” Arthur snapped. “Leave it. You have other concerns.”

“What do you mean?” Feliciano said. 

Alfred took several more steps back from Arthur, unnerved by his touch as much as his behaviour. Arthur was still staring at him.

“Why are you here?”

“Why?” Alfred snapped back.

“What are you doing here, in this time?”

Alfred shook his head and refused to answer.

“We're looking for the journal,” Ludwig answered. “To get back to our time.”

Arthur shot him an unhappy look again, but he threw the red book at their feet. “Here. It was on the first floor, in the room you died in the first time around. You – the one who should be here – still has his.”

Feliciano grabbed the journal and hugged it to his chest. “Why did you bring it here?”

Arthur grimaced again and took a few steps further into the room, his eyes unfocused and wary. He looked at Alfred and gestured roughly for him to stand with Feliciano and Ludwig. Alfred went, placing himself between Arthur and them. 

“I don't have the time to explain this to you,” Arthur said. “Just listen to me – you know everything you need to, to trust me or not. You have it all written down after all. It's up to you, but you need me right now. Listen to me at least.” He pointed at Feliciano. “You're going to die soon.”

The lines Alfred had thought had attached to Arthur flashed red, and he flinched hard and swallowed. 

“Fuck,” Arthur panted. “They're feeding it, why can't they stop... Stop messing with this.” He pulled out his grimoire and gestured with it. “You're making this worse. It's not going to get better. Just don't go to the second floor again, do you understand?”

The door opened again, and the temperature plummeted. Arthur glanced over his shoulder in annoyance as the cords flashed red again. 

“Can't you just stay dead?” Arthur muttered. “Don't waste the bullet, I'll deal with it.” He tucked the loose paper behind the grimoire and opened it, flicking strands of spell off the page towards the monster. The creature froze in place, lashed to the floor by thorned vines.

Arthur turned another two pages and threw a spell at the three of them immediately after. Alfred put up his arms uselessly and felt the spell drop over him. With his senses open to magic, it felt like putting on another shirt settling across his shoulders like a weight – one that itched him madly.

“Look, Italy,” Arthur said, his voice strained from the effort even as he continued to flip through his grimoire. “You need to cut this off. Finish it, for good, before matters get even worse.”

Feliciano opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur lifted the loose page and slapped his hand over the circle. The paper vanished, and so did the piano room.

Alfred blinked the flash of magic from his eyes and found himself standing in the back hallway of the mansion, by the tatami room. In front of them, Gilbert, Kiku, and Romano were arguing in front of the floating wall. Feliciano, to his left, was breathing hard enough to hear. 

The sound grated on his nerves. Alfred turned and slammed his fist into the wall to his other side. He grit his teeth and it wasn't enough; it couldn't be enough. His skin crawled again and he punched the wall hard enough to crack the plaster and feel that he was hitting a stud.

Good.

He punched it again and again until Feliciano grabbed his arm and he forced himself to stop, because he couldn't hit Feli. This wasn't even helping him feel clean after what Arthur had done. As the feeling came back into his hands, he realized he was bruised and bleeding. 

“What happened?” Gilbert asked. 

“England, he...” Ludwig hesitated. “He sent us back. I don't think he survived it, the monster...”

Alfred stood, shaking so hard he knew he'd break if he moved wrong. 

“I thought England said he couldn't do that!” Gilbert yelped

“He turned back time,” Feliciano said. He was still holding onto Alfred's arm, as though afraid of what he might do if he let go. “In the past. You were right, Honda. I died the second time around, but England... he used my journal to make his own spell and – tried to save me. Except he died sending us back instead.”

“Perhaps you should go back to the safe room for a time,” Kiku suggested. “Everyone is back there now. We were just going to investigate in here. I don't expect we'll find much, but...”

“Just the three of you?” Feliciano let go and took a step towards them.

“Too many of us would be crowded in a space we don't know our way around. Given the ladder, we could never get out quickly if we had to.”

Alfred took a careful breath and turned to start towards the stairs without a word.

“Alfred!” Feliciano cried. “Wait, don't go alone! Lovino, make sure you all stay okay!”

“I won't let them do something stupid, fratello.” Romano sounded exasperated. “Go lie down or something!”

Alfred broke into a light jog and darted up the stairs, with Feli and Ludwig's footsteps echoing behind him. He needed to see Mattie. That would make this all better. He needed to not be alone right now – needed to not think about what he had seen.

About the ghosts he hadn't seen in the past, and wasn't seeing even now, in spite of the violence that should've spawned dozens, if not more. He hadn't thought not seeing them would bother him, but this...

He was glad he hadn't eaten yet today. He couldn't throw up something he'd never had.

IIII

“Did Amerika look alright to you?” Japan asked.

“No, but he usually doesn't when England comes up,” Gilbert shrugged. “Let me go down first, I can handle anything that might be down there.”

“Very well,” Japan agreed.

Gilbert flashed him a smile and climbed quickly down the ladder into the small and dark room at the bottom. He didn't see any sign of a lightswitch, but, from the light upstairs, he could see that there was a bulb overhead. He flicked on the flashlight and determined the boundaries of the space he was in. The ladder came down in a dead end, but just to the left of it was a hallway with two doors off it: one to the left and the other straight ahead. 

“It's clear,” Gilbert called, “but there's no light switch. C'mon down.”

Japan came down first, then Romano. Gilbert spotted a pull-tab on the light bulb overhead, but the pull string had torn or ripped and was out of reach of anyone shorter than Ludwig or Ivan.

“Shall we go forward?” Japan asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” Gilbert checked the space again on reflex, certain there was something he'd missed. “Does either of you see anything weird in that corner I'm missing?”

Romano walked over to the corner behind them and scuffed his foot over the dirt there. “I don't see anything weird about it. There's nothing weird about it.”

“Then why are you poking at it?” Gilbert asked.

“Because I wanted to be sure!”

“I see nothing either,” Japan said.

“You don't see anything, okay,” Gilbert agreed, “but what do you feel?”

Japan gave him a curious look, but he walked over and scuffed his foot over the dirt as well. “Nothing.”

Gilbert walked over to follow suit to his own words and jammed his foot into the corner as well. Something jumped into his skin and crawled up his leg to diffuse through his chest. He yelped and jerked back, swatting at his leg and chest futilely. “What the fuck was that!?”

“What the Hell are you jumping around for?” Romano cursed. “You're gonna make me shoot you, fucker!”

“It jumped into me!”

“Into you?” Japan said. “What was it?”

Gilbert glared at him. “How should I know?”

“You said you feel magic sometimes?” Japan asked quickly. “What about that?”

He paused and scowled at him, crossing himself reflexively. 

“Perhaps that was what it was?” Japan suggested.

“It's possible.” Gilbert edged back into the corner and swept his foot through the space that had previously caught his attention. “I guess it must've been.”

“Do you feel unwell at all?” Japan asked.

“No, I feel a bit energetic and kind of giddy so... I guess it was harmless?”

“Bullshit,” Romano groused. “You're getting Feli to look you over when we get back. You don't go letting weird shit jump into you and not do something about it.”

“Yes, fine,” Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Let's go.”

He turned the flashlight down the hall and started off. Lovino cursed under his breath, but didn't otherwise argue. The door on the left was only a few paces away. It was unlocked, and Gilbert went inside, sweeping the room with the flashlight. Lovino and Japan joined him and he heard one of them irritably flip the light switch back and forth. 

“Ugh,” Lovino grumbled. “No light.”

“I think I see a circuit box, lemme take a look.” Gilbert crossed the room.

“Be careful!” Japan said.

Gilbert rolled his eyes and opened the cover. He flashed the light over the switches and connections in question. None of them were labelled, but one was flipped over. That one was also jerked out of its mooring. Gilbert tucked the flashlight into his mouth and quickly fished through his pocket for something to use. He found his knitted gloves and pressed them over the exposed wire before shaping it to do what he wanted and put it back in place properly. Once that was done, he flipped the switch. 

The light in the room sputtered and came on; in the hallway, there was a series of pops and falling glass. Lovino, guarding the door, jumped and cursed, sweeping the hallway again with his gun. 

“Fuck! Don't fucking do that, you bastard! What if I'd been under the light?”

“You'd be fine,” Gilbert shut the flashlight off and shut the cover. “It's just glass, relax! I got us light, see?”

“For now, yes.” Japan ran his hand over a spot on the table. “Puroisen, is this...?”

Gilbert walked over and swept his hand over the spot Japan was touching. He felt the prickle against his skin a second before it jolted up his arm. He shoved the flashlight into a pocket and shook his left arm out violently. “Fuck, that's it! How'd you know?”

“I don't know, it just seemed like I should ask. Are you certain you're alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. It feels friendly-like and all – not like the rest of the creepy shit that's been in the house.” He crossed himself again for good measure, but it didn't feel bad or like anything else he might expect to react to the prayer. He was reminded all over again why he'd never learned magic from Ulrich: it always made him feel like he needed a few Hail Mary's and a confession to be clean again.

“I'm not sure we have anyone who can help you if you think the insubstantial is friendly,” Lovino complained. “That seems like the start of Inghilterra's problems and a few others bundled together. It's fucking alarming me at least.”

“I noticed,” Gilbert said. “Let's check out the rest of the place while we still have light, yeah?”

“Fine, sure, get eaten.” Lovino complained, but he backed out into the hallway, still watching both directions for them. “See if I care.”

Gilbert ruffled his hair as he passed. “Admit it, you'd miss me if I was gone you know.” He walked into the next room and looked around and whistled softly. “What does this guy have so many libraries for? What kind of books did he collect?”

Japan approached one of the tall bookcases and glanced over the shelf. “It appears collecting them was a hobby. He has many languages here.”

“Could he even read that many languages?” Gilbert walked around the table at the front of the room, eyeing the papers where they lay. Some of them looked like schematics for the house, or a different house. He started to sort the papers absently. 

“I do not know,” Japan said tersely. 

Gilbert glanced up to check on him, but he was still studying the books on the shelf. Opting not to question him about it, he started to walk a circuit of the room, checking the walls for hidden doors and walking straight into another spot that latched onto his legs and climbed into his chest to huddle with the rest of the slightly frantic energy already there.

He didn't think he'd made any noise, but Lovino called out to him nonetheless. “Gilbert, you okay!?”

“Yeah, sure. I just found more of that stuff.”

“Fine. There's another door over here, hurry up.”

Prussia finished the circuit of the room quickly and found the door Lovino had meant on the last wall he came to. It led into a small study, in which Honda and Lovino were both staring at the corner curiously.

“Did you find anything” Gilbert asked.

Lovino shook himself and looked up. “No. If there's any hidden doors, we probably want to get the others down here to help look for them with us anyways.”

Gilbert stepped into the corner they were staring at and this time he was braced for the shivery energy as it hit him. He made a face and turned in time to see Lovino crossing himself absently. He resisted the urge to repeat it; it hadn't done much the first two times after all. 

“Let's go back,” he began, only to hear something slam into the ground some distance away. “Shit!”

“The fuck was that!?” Lovino cursed.

“The fuck is it!” Gilbert drew his sword. “It's coming this way!”

It was so loud he could feel it in the air, the sounds as regular as footfalls. He bit his lip and gave in, crossing himself for comfort but it didn't help. Fear made his breath short as he placed the sound as coming down the hallway behind them.

“There isn't room for something that large down here,” Japan objected, his sword drawn. “We can't get out.”

“Lovino, stand over there,” Gilbert pointed. “I've got the longer sword. Kiku –”

A door crashed open not far away. Gilbert braced himself to get attacked, watching Lovino settle the machine gun against his shoulder. He'd fire first, then, when he stopped, Gilbert would go forward. Surely...

The door slammed open and the monster was just suddenly there, filling the space inside the door without any struggle to get through the hole so much smaller than it was. 

Lovino's gun clicked. Gilbert looked at him and, when he raised the barrel, Gilbert had bring his sword up to block the creature punching at his face. He thought he felt something shift, but then the monster was backing up and he slashed at its mass to try and force it back.

His sword broke on contact, the blade sheared off near the hilt. 

“Gilbert, get back!” Honda screamed.

“I can't fire!” Lovino cursed. “I can't fire! Shit! Shit!!”

Gilbert jerked back, but he had nowhere to go in the cramped office. He could see the monster punching down towards him and he couldn't possibly get out of range fast enough. All he could think was that being crushed to death sucked.

And the world flashed white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abusive FACE family dynamics  
> Implied Character Death  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	21. Chapter 21

“You don't have the energy to be wasting it on stupid stunts like that!” Alfred shouted. “You had no idea what they were doing, you could have fucking killed them!”

He could see for himself that wasn't the case, but it didn't fucking matter. It didn't matter that Romano had burst into furious tears and thrown his assault rifle onto the floor as Gilbert and Kiku staggered and dropped, completely white in the face. Shutting up Arthur's smug face did.

“We've broken all the clocks,” Arthur sneered. “The house has ambient energy again, I have as much as I could possibly need to pull this!”

“It's not fucking limitless!” Alfred snarled. “You don't need to be jerking off at us like this! We get it! You're a big dog again, you can cast magic – you don't have to go using it on anyone who can't make you fucking stop like you're the British Empire again!”

“Alfred,” Mattie started. “Alfred, it's okay. It didn't turn out badly, can you please stop...”

Alfred ground his teeth and let Mattie pull him back to the table to sit down. Feliciano had drawn his brother out of the circle, to sit and cry on the floor by the wall. 

“Thank you for that,” Kiku said, his voice thready. “We were – in dire need. The monster had – it found us in the annexe. We were cornered.”

Something metal dropped to the floor. Alfred turned to see Gilbert's sword hilt on the ground, the blade gone. He walked over to Lovino's machine gun and carried it over to the far end of the table to start pulling it apart; his brother joined him a moment later. 

Alfred looked away again, hoping he hadn't offended him by yelling what he had at Arthur. Gilbert knew why he lost his temper like he did, but that didn't mean he agreed. 

“Alfred is this blood?” Mattie asked. 

“Huh?” He looked at his shoulder where Mattie was touching and noticed the discolouration on his navy shirt. “I don't remember where that came from.”

As soon as he said it, however, he did know: remembered Arthur pushing him away in the past, and the red cords attached to his body, draining him for walking into the room like he had. But he'd been in the room since then, in their timeline without that happening, so what had caused it? Or were they already attached and just not active yet?

“Prussia, can you tell me what you found downstairs?” Arthur asked. His voice came from nearly behind him, and Alfred yelped and stared at him as he touched Gilbert's shoulder. As soon as his hand touched him, however, there was a flash of power transferred from Gilbert's body to Arthur. Arthur jerked back and swore. “Bloody Hell!”

“Shit!” Gilbert cursed. “What the Hell was that?”

“You found a lot more than I thought!” Arthur stared back.

“Sure, but what was it?” Gilbert snapped.

Arthur was looking giddy, and no wonder. He was glowing with energy like he usually did to Alfred's sight, giving him a high entirely different from heroin but ultimately so much the same. Alfred tried to see if the monster was draining him or not, but it didn't appear to be the case unless they were going to be inert until he went back into that room. 

“It's magic,” Arthur said. “I found a few upstairs but not nearly as much as you did.” He rubbed at the hand he'd touched Gilbert with, then glanced around the safe room and snapped his fingers. Things suddenly moved back into their accustomed places – bags to beds, dishes to the sink or counter, garbage to the bin. “That's better.”

“So glad to help,” Gilbert said dryly. “Hey Lovino, c'mere. I see what went wrong here. Let me show you.”

Alfred got up before Arthur could turn to argue with him instead, skirting Arthur's circle to go into the bathroom and clean up. A few minutes later, Feliciano followed him in. Alfred stopped in the middle of washing his face. 

“Feli?” he asked. 

“Yeah? What is it?” Feli came over from the sink he'd been using with a worried look. “Are you okay?”

“No, but it's okay. It's not a big deal. Can you step in here while I wash my shirt?”

Feliciano did so, pulling the curtain shut behind himself as Alfred stripped out of his shirt. He dumped it in the tub and started to fill it with cold water. He retrieved the small bar of soap from the sink and soaked the material before scrubbing at the mark. It was pointless – it was going to stain regardless – but he could at least get rid of the worst of it. 

After a minute of watching him scrub, Feliciano asked “What did you want to ask me?”

Alfred rinsed the shirt with one hand, trying to work feeling back into the other. “How many times did just Arthur die? In the past, I mean.”

“Just the once.”

“But you still turned back time?”

“I did.”

“Why?” Alfred asked. “I mean – did you turn back time for Russia too? You hate them both. You have nothing invested in them. Nobody would blame you for it.”

“You would've,” Feliciano said tiredly. “I mean, for Russia.”

“But not for Arthur.”

“I haven't noticed him behaving badly here?” Feliciano asked.

Alfred shook his head nervously. “No, not really.” He glanced at his shoulder and stifled a curse. He ripped off his undershirt and wrapped his arms around his chest, struggling not to cry. Feliciano got up to his knees and took his undershirt to dump it into the tub as well. 

Alfred watched him wash it and slowly lowered his arms, knowing the scars weren't obvious but feeling so self-conscious he couldn't relax. He was too stressed out to feel comfortable in his own skin. He tried to think of anything to say to fill the silence.

“At least it's not like I have to wear a binder anymore,” he tried. “I can just steal one of Mattie's shirts.”

“Hm?” Feliciano glanced at him and down his chest, then smiled in understanding. “Oh, yeah! That must make it easier, yes. But I'll bet he carried a spare for you anyways, didn't he? He's nice like that.”

“Yeah, he did.” Alfred curled up a bit more. “Like you have one for Gilbert, don't you?”

“Oh, for both of us, yes.” Feliciano laughed. “It's nice to see that getting surgery worked out so well for you, but, well, you know Gilbert.”

Alfred muffled a laugh. He knew Gilbert, yeah. He had long ago decided not to ask Gilbert about how he related being trans and Catholic; asking Gilbert anything about being Catholic generally devolved into him ranting about obscure history Alfred didn't know the first thing about.

“And you wouldn't because you keep going back and forth,” Alfred said and sighed. “You don't have to do that for me, I can do it.” He got up and started scrubbing out his shirt again. 

“It's no problem! I can finish it if you just need to sit for a little while!” Feli said firmly.

Alfred sniffled again. “I don't get why I'm so upset, it's just a bit of blood.”

“You don't have to have a reason to be upset, Alfred.”

“You died,” he said. “I think you'd be more unhappy about that.”

“Oh, well, yes,” Feli shrugged. “but I didn't die for nothing and then it got better.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “I'm glad Ludwig's okay at least. How's Lovino? Did you talk much once he got back?”

“He's upset, but Gilbert's talking to him about the gun. He's not alone. You looked like you might need company.”

“Thanks,” Alfred blushed and kept his head down. He checked his shirt and then held his hand out to Feli. “Can I ask you to get me a dry shirt from Mattie if he still has one?”

“Yes!” Feliciano got up and quickly left. 

Alfred checked his undershirt, relieved to see the stain was a faint orange – almost like tomato juice instead of blood – and rinsed both out to hang over the towel rod before he drained the tub. 

He watched the pink water swirl away. He didn't like to see Arthur hurt. It was stupid and the greatest irony, but he didn't have to think Arthur deserved pain just because he could dish it out. He wished Arthur would stop hurting people. Arthur had claimed he was going to, but Alfred hadn't seen much evidence yet. If it was him, or François or Antonio or Mattie attacking him, that was different – they had the right to, just like any of his colonies. 

But that didn't give a monster any right to do it.

He turned as he heard the door open and Feliciano passed him a shirt through the curtain. Alfred pulled it on happily and dragged the curtain open. “Thanks. For staying and the shirt.”

“You're welcome.” Feliciano kissed his cheeks and squeezed his shoulders. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will. Promise.”

Alfred came out of the bathroom with Feliciano to see Arthur washing away the chalk from the teleportation circle as he talked with Ludwig about their trip to the past.

“So you didn't see any of the monsters from our time in the past with you?” Arthur asked.

“Italien and I didn't see one at all, no... Alfred, did you see any?”

“There was one that appeared with me in the basement, but it was weak and easy to deal with. I ran all the way up to the top of the mansion and didn't see any others.”

Arthur looked up at him. “But one did show up?”

Alfred bristled. “Yes, one did. I killed it just fine on my own. What are you asking me for?”

“If someone unexpected dies in the past, it can affect the outcome of our timeline now,” Arthur snapped. “If Italy's choices start to change because of it, it could unwrite our reality now. I can target things from our timeline in the past with the template of Italy's journal to use so we can make certain that cannot happen.”

“That's not even a working theory anyone has, Arthur, it's fucking conjecture,” Alfred snapped. “It's not worth risking our lives over!”

Arthur looked back down at the floor. “Shut up about things you don't understand, boy.”

Alfred stalked past him and threw his hands up in defeat. He sat down beside Mattie and ground his teeth as his boyfriend wrapped his arms around his chest.

“You're more tense than normal,” Mattie said softly. “What happened? This isn't typical for a bad run in with him.”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Alfred said.

“Alright.” Mattie pressed his nose into the curve of his neck. “If they do go back in time, I should go. I have the best aim after Feliciano and I don't lose ammo.”

Alfred relaxed a little. “Have you lost any?”

“Two bolts out of twenty,” Mattie said. “One shaft bent, and two heads lost their points. I could use them in an emergency, but if I don't have to it's better to keep them for last.”

Alfred closed his eyes and nodded, trying to let Mattie's presence comfort him. He didn't really disagree with Arthur about being cautious about the past, but if someone died trying this, it would ruin everything they'd gotten done when he just hoped it would be over soon. 

Fifteen minutes later, Arthur was done making a new circle with a trigger spell in one of the empty journals from around the house. Francis, Mattie, Ivan and Yao went into the past to look for monsters.

“I want to go downstairs and see if I can find anything in the annexe basement that was missed,” Arthur said, coming out of the bathroom and drying his hands after. “Who here will insist on coming with me?”

“All of the strongest fighters went into the past,” Kiku said. “I'd like to rest a bit longer, at least.” He looked over his shoulder worriedly, but Alfred could see it was useless. Ludwig, Gilbert, and Romano had strewn the machine gun over the table, cleaning all the parts, and Antonio abruptly went over to join them at the tone in Arthur's voice.

“I can go with him with Alfred,” Feliciano said. “We'll have three chances to get a hit and vanish it right off the bat, it won't stand a chance!” He dried his hands jerkily in the kitchen and came over to join them. “You can join us in a little while when you feel better, yeah Honda?”

“Alright,” Kiku frowned. “That should be safe enough.”

It wasn't okay, but they needed Arthur safe, at least until the rest had come back from the past. He wondered if Arthur knew he was forcing them to protect him this way, but put it out of his mind. He didn't think Arthur was thinking of that: he was being himself, which included being able to get his way every moment of every day. The thought of fighting with him was exhausting at best.

Abruptly, Alfred remembered he had only fifteen bullets in his guns and went to check what Mattie had left behind on their bed. Right on top of the pillow was two fresh clips. Alfred dumped the emptiest clips there and pocketed the rest, refilling his guns completely. He had forty-eight bullets left. He wasn't completely useless yet. Arthur was waiting impatiently on him at the top of the stairs and stalked down the ladder the moment Alfred started his way.

That was fine by him. 

The annexe wasn't far from the safe room at all. He went down the stairs first into the dimly lit entryway. The lightbulb by the stairs had shattered, the glass crunching underneath his shoes; ahead of him, the light by the next two doors was also out, but the door to the left was open, letting at least some light shine into the enclosed hall. Arthur came down behind him and looked around curiously. Alfred ignored him until Feliciano was down as well, then went to the door at the end of the hall and pulled it open as well. 

“Wait,” Arthur called. 

Alfred turned and waited for him to search the side room, watching the library with interest from the doorway and feeling unease grow in his chest. 

He could see the ambient magic still – it took concentration and time to close off his Sight again, and he didn't see any benefit in it after he'd already opened himself up: anything that might find him with it on wouldn't forget he could see them just because he'd shut it away again. He shivered all over again instead, because he was seeing what Arthur had said about the house before: it was empty.

It wasn't the lack of ambient magic that was bothering him, though. He could see it coming back in little creepers from the walls, drifting out of the soil through manmade barriers in slow waves. Arthur, when he walked past him again, was drawing it in the way most magic was drawn to people with the talent and skill to be aware of it and use it. It had always struck him as a little creepy, but, more than that, the house was missing things that it really should have had.

Death created ghosts. Violent death created more ghosts. Arthur could see them because he'd learned how; England had quite a few, but they were old, casual, and learned from each other. Talking with them had been company and comfort around London.

At the end of the 18th century, Alfred had gone home to tens of thousands of ghosts – and growing – and every one knew he could hear them. Every one he could do nothing to help. He'd blocked his Sight and held it shut so they didn't scream him into madness, and he didn't even question it anymore. 

Every ghost in the house should've seen when he unblocked his Sight and come to find him. 

He'd met one, a little girl who just wanted to talk about her house and her brother, and had apparently died from illness.

“I'm going to look in the study,” Arthur said. “Stay here, I don't want to get trapped in there.”

“Alright!” Feliciano agreed.

Alfred roused himself from the doorframe and walked over to join Feliciano at the table. Feli was rapidly sorting the papers there, making stacks and spaces for what he was looking at out of the mess that had been there before. 

“I'm sorry you had to come with him,” Feliciano said.

“We need him,” Alfred sighed. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the door to the study. “If he gets hurt or dies, the people who went back in time are going to be stuck there.”

“Ah,” Feli stared at the study with that look he sometimes got on his face, something like a shark that generally correlated with Gilbert getting really excited. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Alfred sighed heavily and dropped his hands to the table to study it, pushing his glasses up his nose. “What's this?”

“I don't know. I can't actually read kanji, so most of this I don't understand.”

“Anything you're really worried about, or do you mean to take it back up with us for Kiku to see?”

“Oh, no, I'm sure it can wait.” Feli's hands were shaking, though, as he collected the papers together. Alfred might've asked, except suddenly the feel of the room changed.

“Over here,” someone called.

Alfred turned carefully, because it was coming from the study, but that was not Arthur's voice and it wasn't the little girl ghost's either. The far end of the room however, was blank. 

Completely blank. All the ambient energy that had faded in was just as suddenly gone.

Arthur came out of the study, and Alfred stalked across the basement towards him, pushing down the irrational terror and glaring instead. Arthur paused just outside the door and rolled his eyes.

“What is it now?” he groaned.

“You know damn well why I hate that you dragged us down here,” Alfred snapped.

“What?” Arthur stared back at him and curled his lip. “What on earth are you talking about? You're raving like a child who doesn't want to admit he's wrong. Why do you insist on questioning me every time I do something you don't like? You threw away everything I taught you!”

“I'm not wrong!” Alfred snarled. “I'm furious that you're wasting energy you could turn to getting us out of here on ideas that have no –” 

“You have no knowledge of the theory in question, you impudent little –” 

“Look out!”

Alfred turned at the strangers voice again, a wash of heat slapping him in the face as he drew his gun. He saw a negative colour image of a human body, then the monster stood over him. Alfred aimed and fired, but the monster slapped his arms down and grabbed his chest, biting down over his shoulder and down his arm. He felt like a rag doll in the mouth of a dog for a terrifying moment, then the spell laying over his chest came to life with a hiss of power. 

The monster jerked away from him, knocking him to the floor. Alfred fell hard, too shocked to catch himself and dizzy from the sudden pain and shock. He wasn't sure what had just happened, except that his skin was crawling with the aftereffects of Arthur's magic and there was a burning half-circle of pain across his chest. Someone – someone gasping softly and talking in Italian – pulled him up and to his feet, dragging him away from the hazy figure crouched between the bookcases. Clear white lines with hooks in them snapped around the monster – Arthur's typical holding spell, visible even without his glasses.

“Get him out of here!” Arthur snarled. “Go! I'll hold it here!”

“I can help –” Feliciano began.

“Don't be ridiculous. You want him safe more than you care about me, I can handle this myself!”

“You don't have to.”

Alfred relaxed and looked over Feliciano's shoulder to see Kiku's blurry white shirt and dark hair walk past, a slash of silver as his sword passed under the top light. 

“Please take him to safety, Itaria,” Kiku said. “I will keep Kirkland safe.”

Feliciano pulled Alfred's good arm further over his shoulder and stood, dragging him past the bookcases and into the hallway. Eventually Alfred's shaking retreated enough he could stand up mostly on his own. 

“Wh – what happened?” he asked.

“There was a flash and a spell activated – or I assume it was a spell – and the monster was forced to let you go. I think it might've been what Arthur did to us in the past before he sent us forwards.”

“Hah,” Alfred tried to laugh, but the tears came anyways. “Fuck it all, I can't escape him. I can't do anything right. Why does it always end up like this?”

“You're going to be okay, Alfred, it's okay,” Feliciano said quickly. “You're just in shock. Don't try to think about this right now. We'll get you upstairs and to bed, and Inghilterra will be right behind us.”

Alfred let Feliciano's rambling go on, nodding along to it as he tried not to feel like a failure. He was bleeding badly and sick and weak; he was totally useless to anyone right now. It didn't matter what he tried; it wasn't going to help so he kept his mouth shut and carried on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abusive FACE Family Dynamics  
> No other warnings for this chapter
> 
> For those wondering why I used the justification I did for Alfred's fear of ghosts, check out this link: http://rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com/485705.html


	22. Chapter 22

“Why did you come?” Arthur asked. He flipped through his grimoire, trying to decide what spells were best suited to this situation. 

“I dropped the salt in the kitchen and had a bad feeling,” Kiku shrugged impassively. “However, I'm not sure I can hold it off for long.”

“The monster is stronger than it was before.” Arthur eyed the creature and stretched his hand out. “Take my hand, I can make you more effective.”

Kiku stared curiously at him and took his hand. Arthur shot him a look.

“You're shaking,” he said.

“It has been very long since I last faced such a challenge.”

Arthur smiled. “Of course.” He squeezed Kiku's hand and breathed the words to bind his energy to him and receive some back in return. He levitated his grimoire to draw an unbinding rune on the back of Kiku's hand in sharpie, then dropped the pen to the floor and let go. “Try now.”

Kiku reclaimed his hand and stepped forward, looking – and feeling, through the bright energy bond – surprised at himself. “Am I going to interrupt anything you've done?”

Arthur reclaimed the holding spell. “Go, now!”

Kiku threw himself forward, and deflected the monster's fist with his sword before cutting across the meat of its chest. There was a gush of clear fluid and the monster staggered backwards with a soundless cry. Through the bond, Kiku's mind filled with surprise all over again, but he didn't pause. He twisted the sword up and cut into the creature's arms, forcing it to retreat behind the bookcase once again. Kiku inhaled sharply and shivered, and Arthur slammed his grimoire shut.

“Honda, let's go!” he called. “It can't give chase!”

“Ah – Amerika's glasses!”

“Leave it!”

Kiku accepted that and ran, Arthur's sharp awareness of his feelings slowing to a trickle as the fresh bond waned as their attention shifted elsewhere. There was still a thread of connection, but no more than a sense of well-being and relative direction like so many others Arthur held. At the end of the hallway, Arthur went up the ladder first then stopped and waited for Kiku to offer him a hand climbing out of the hole.

“You should clean your sword,” Arthur said. He stretched and sighed a little, eyeing the floor and wondering why there was no blood from Alfred's passage. Perhaps the boy was simply healing too quickly; he was, after all, still an Empire.

“Should we not hurry?” Kiku asked. His body was rigid with tension, but he didn't run on ahead either. Arthur slid his hand up Kiku's back and started towards the stairs, careful in case Kiku lost his balance after that exertion. 

“It can't chase us until it heals itself,” Arthur said, “and you did it no small amount of damage. That should keep it occupied for some time.”

“It didn't vanish.”

“That wasn't what I spelled your hand with.” Arthur shook his head. “It's body is made of energy – vanishing means that we interrupted its connection to being solid. The damage you did... tangled the energy it used. It has to untangle what you damaged to heal, or it has to vanish itself and start over. Either one. I meant it when I said you need to clean your sword.”

Kiku drew his sword in surprise and Arthur heard the suck of fluid as he did so. “What is that?”

“Ectoplasm,” Arthur said. “It's common to ghost appearances.”

Kiku's face stayed pointedly blank. “How should I clean it?”

“Just use water.” Arthur climbed the ladder into the safe room and immediately looked around for where Alfred had gotten to. He found him curled up on one of the mattresses on the floor under a blanket, Italy by his side. Arthur walked into the kitchen where Ludwig was peeling potatoes to ask “How is Alfred?”

“Feliciano healed him as soon as he got back.” Ludwig looked up, then back down to the potatoes studiously. “He said he wanted to try to sleep.”

“Fine, I'll wait.” Arthur huffed and looked around the room. He was craving another hit, but he had maybe trace amounts left in the bag – not worth the effort to try. Maybe he might take it orally later if he got very sick, but he'd be fine dammit. He'd been through much worse before. Having his magic back took the edge off his withdrawal, but he was still going down and knew it was only going to get worse.

He felt the magic surge through the circle behind him moments before the Nations who had gone into the past reappeared. Arthur turned and walked up to greet them, grateful for the distraction.

“How did you do?” he asked.

“It went fine,” Francis said. He was pale and looked drawn and tired. “We killed everything we could find. How is everyone here?”

“Alfred got attacked in the annexe.” Arthur scowled, wishing the boy wasn't hiding from his scolding yet again. He'd thought Alfred would've outgrown that long ago. “The monster appears to have settled in there, waiting for us to try again. I feel stuck here.” He clenched his hands, then forced himself to relax. Francis came up and took his hands, gently pulling his nails away from his palms. 

“You did what you could. It's okay.”

Arthur sighed and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Mattie abruptly stood up from tending to Ivan and raced across the room to the mattresses where Alfred lay. Arthur rolled his eyes, only for Francis to pull him tightly to his chest.

“He worries, you know he does.”

“Alfred's already been healed,” Arthur grumbled. “He was just an idiot. If he'd let me handle it, everything would've been fine.”

“Shush.” Francis put a finger over his mouth and then kissed him. “Let me reassure myself you're okay without hearing you complain about our boys, mon cher.”

Arthur leaned up to kiss him, absurdly pleased by the slip into French. He ran his hands down Francis' sides, pressed into his body. For a moment he felt a pinch of shame – Kiku was likely watching and while he'd never expressed jealousy, Arthur couldn't imagine he didn't feel it – but he could reassure him later. Kiku had never liked public affection anyways.

“Better?” he asked, and smiled as Francis' eyes glowed with affection.

“Yes, thank you. It is good to know everything is okay.”

Arthur sighed and leaned his head into his shoulder. “For now.”

“Oui, for now.”

IIII

Yong-soo stepped onto the bridge and looked up and down the stream without emotion until he heard the click of Austria's cane reach the bridge behind him. “Oseuteulia...” he began. “Is your sense of direction this terrible in Europe as well?”

“I know what I saw,” Austria snapped.

“I am not questioning that you saw it; I'm questioning if you will ever find it again.”

“I am trusting your ability to find the clocks myself.” Austria pointed back down the trail. “We can try this way.”

Yong-soo didn't move from the bridge. “We just came that way.”

“I meant if we turn right –” 

“I do not believe that will cross the stream again at all.”

“What are you trying to find?” Switzerland asked. 

Yong-soo turned to him with relief. “Ah, you have made it back. Oseuteulia says he found another clock, but we can't find it again.”

“I am not lost!” Austria protested.

“Was he with Ungarn when he found it?” Switzerland said. “We'll find it again. I can call her if we haven't in another ten minutes. I'm sorry I had to leave, but Erika called – I needed to make sure she had enough ammunition.”

“Is either one of them going to talk Weißrussland out of going to her brother?” Austria groaned. “She will be of no use inside the house, she can't even think straight. We don't need anyone else stuck inside!”

Switzerland stared flatly back at him. “You are welcome to find her and explain this again.”

Yong-soo groaned and put his hands over his face. “I do not care what they do; once this is resolved, it will not matter where they are. Can we please find the –”

Austria's phone rang again. 

“Fuck,” Yong-soo spat. “Make it quick!”

Austria glared at him as he answered. “Edelstein? We are fine, thank you. Things are going smoothly.”

Yong-soo glanced at Switzerland and raised an eyebrow. The other Nation was giving Austria the same blank stare he normally wore. When Yong-soo looked back at Austria, however, the other Nation had gone white.

“What? Is he alright?” Austria demanded. “What happened?”

Yong-soo opened his mouth to ask who it was when his senses filled with alarm. He immediately called up a ward and exhaled loudly. “It's here.”

Switzerland turned and found the monster with his gun, sighting down the rifle and firing. The monster vanished. “Irritating things.”

“Yes,” Yong-soo agreed. He turned back to Austria, “Who got hurt?”

Austria raised an impatient hand, phone still to his ear. “Ignore that, I – Gilbert? Gilbert, are you there? Damn.” He lowered the phone with a grimace. “I lost the call.”

“Who was hurt?” Yong-soo repeated.

“Amerika,” Austria said. “He got attacked while in the annexe with England and Italien. He's sleeping it off now, but they fear the monster is waiting for them to try to enter the annexe again.”

“If we can break the clocks, the interruptions with phones should end, and there won't be any more distortion of time or energy.” Yong-soo tapped his foot on the bridge. “We still have to find the rest of the nine outside.”

“And you are certain it is nine?” Austria asked skeptically.

“Yes.” Yong-soo gritted his teeth. “I am very certain.”

“Would you two please stop?” Switzerland cut in. “Let him do the work you do not have the first clue how to do yourself. We are wasting time arguing.”

Austria turned to glare at him instead. “Then perhaps he should believe me when I say I know where a clock is!”

“Yes, by a bridge.” Switzerland turned to face Yong-soo. “We can check the next one upstream, it's quicker to go this way.”

“I am quite certain it is that way!” Austria pointed downstream.

Yong-soo dug his fingers into his hair and stared up at the clouds. He was beginning to hope another monster would show up: anything to cut off yet another argument.

Nations got along as well as a bag of cats.

IIII

“So there is maps of another building in the annexe?” Ivan asked. He leaned back in the chair at the table, watching as several others had to be coaxed into finishing their food.

“Yes,” Italy said, smiling at him as he took the excuse to ignore Germany's quiet persistence in trying to get him to eat. “They were all in Japanese, so I couldn't read any of it, but a lot of them looked to be graphics of both this house and another one. I meant to grab some to bring back with me, but we got distracted.”

“And no sign of a hidden passage?”

“No.” Italy shook his head. “Not in the rooms we managed to search. We haven't been able to spend any time just looking for them yet, so I can't say for sure. But whatever we're looking for is well hidden.”

“I would like to see it myself.” Ivan closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the brush of Winter's hands through his hair. He had eaten already, but that had not been hard. It took a lot to make him not wish to eat when there was food in front of him. His words made the chill retreat from his lips and ears as he figured out what it was Winter had wanted.

Italy was nodding in agreement and stirring his food again when his phone rang loudly again. He glanced at the display and startled before answering. “Ciao?”

Ivan pushed his chair back and got up to go to the bathroom when suddenly Italy called, “Russia, it's for you. It's Liechtenstein.”

Ivan stopped and blinked at him, but he accepted the phone nonetheless. “Hallo Likhtenshteyn,” he said, switching into German.

“Hallo,” she said. “I thought you should know that Weißrussland and Ukraine think they know where the cave inside is. They heard that Spanien and Romano got in and when Weißrussland saw what she thought was an entrance, she took off.”

Ivan gritted his teeth. “Who told her?”

“I don't know.”

“Da, of course you don't know. That is fine. Thank you, I should go.” He hung up the phone and dropped it to the table. He did not run; he would not panic the others, but he gathered his sword-pipe and turned to go.

“Is something wrong with your phone?” Italy asked. 

“Nyet,” Ivan said, staring. “Why?” 

“Liechtenstein said she couldn't call your phone.”

“I do not know.” He kept talking and pushed the trap door open once more. “I will look into it – after.”

“Where are you going?” Italy snapped.

“To the basement.”

“Dammit Éluósī!” China cursed behind him, but Ivan kept walking, uncaring who tried to follow him or not. “You can't just leave like that!”

As soon as he was outside the room, Ivan hurried down the stairs and jogged to the basement door and into the maze of tunnels. A cool breeze surrounded him, reassuring him that nothing was waiting ahead or behind; he was as safe as he could expect to be in this house.

He went directly to the cave and, to his relief, Natalya was nowhere in sight. He stood at the bottom and waited. It was only a matter of time.

“Éluósī!” China gasped. “Why did you run off like that?”

“You should have waited for us to come with you,” Japan added.

Ivan was mildly surprised that Japan had come with them. He didn't turn to look at them, giving only the slightest shrug. “I do not wish my sisters to endanger themselves for me. I need to be here when she arrives.”

Japan made a confused noise, but Ivan ignored him, waiting with the cool air on his face for the tall figure to walk up to the mouth of the cave, her body stiff and jerky. She was tall enough that, when she reached the cave mouth, she leaned her hands on the top and stared down with a relieved laugh. She was in shadow, backed by the evening light as red as fire and the smaller shadow of Yekaterina, but he could hear her emotions in her voice – obviously in her voice.

“Natalya, what are you doing?” he demanded before she got far. “You know this will not help.”

“I found you!” she cried. “I found you, I needed to see you. I brought you something! I meant to give it to you tonight, but you haven't come back – you, you might not come back – so I had to find you now! Are you hurt?”

“I am fine,” Ivan repeated. “You need to go back.”

“Please, Vanya, let me join you!”

“You will not help me here.” Ivan took two steps forward. “You must stay outside.”

“Vanya,” she sang, her voice tight. “Vanya, you don't have to do this alone! I can help you! I promised, that's what your wife is for!” She dropped like a puppet with her strings cut, her hands groping for the rope ladder. “I promised, Vanya, let me keep my promise.”

“Natalya!” He stepped forward again, then cut himself off as Yekaterina's shadow came up and took her hands.

“Sister, you can see him, can't you?” Yekaterina said. “You can see Big Brother's okay. Isn't that what you needed? To know he's okay?”

Natalya stopped moving, one hand on the ladder. Yekaterina gently pried her hand loose and pulled her back from the edge. 

“Are you really okay?” Natalya asked, her voice breaking. 

“Yes, I am okay.” Ivan smiled for her. “I am not alone. You can see that, can't you?”

Natalya relaxed back further from the edge, Yekaterina's arm around her shoulders. 

“When I find the exit, you can meet me there. I will wait to see you there. Please go, Natalya.”

Her shoulders shook and she nodded hard. She pulled something out and turned it over in her hands. “I know I should wait to give you this, but – if I give it to you now, I will be with you like I promised, yes?”

“That is fine.”

She threw the package down to him and Ivan caught it, feeling through the brown paper wrapping that she'd gotten him another scarf. He tore the paper off – letting her see him open it – and pulled out a new scarf. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I will keep it with me, for when it gets cold.”

“Yes,” Natalya said. “If you're certain I cannot join you –” She cut herself off and looked over her shoulder. Ivan listened and heard the report of a gun fire, multiple times, and a faint scream.

“Oh!” Yekaterina startled. There was a blood-curdling warcry and she got to her feet, picking up her spear. “Erszébet's there.”

“Erika will be fine with her,” Natalya said crossly. “We don't have to go.”

“Natalya,” Ivan said. “Go help your lover. They need you more than I do.”

She hesitated again, her body turned sideways to the cave but still unable to tear herself away. Ivan turned his back on her and walked past China and Japan back down the cave. He listened for her to come after him, to insist, but he heard Yekaterina's voice again and then nothing until China and Japan caught up with him.

“That was close,” China muttered. “She is obsessed.”

“She is not,” Ivan said stiffly. “She is like you were after Mao's famines. Do not insult her pain.”

“What did that to her, that she is still feeling it now?” China asked. “You were terrified of her after the war.”

Ivan exhaled slowly, but he respected China enough to answer this. “I was sick and she was sick. When she was more sick, she made me more sick. When things do not go well, she regresses to it again.” He ran the new scarf she'd given him through his hands. “She is better when she is with women she can love, it reminds her she does not need me like she thinks she does.”

Japan made a skeptical noise. “If she loves women and not men, why does she insist she must marry you?”

“Because marriage is security and protection, not love. She trusts me to take care of her; if we were to marry, I would be obligated to care for her.”

Ivan sped up walking, feeling the chill on his back increase and spread to his ears and lips once more. Perhaps he had gotten Natalya to safety, but they still had a long ways to go to bring themselves there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of disordered eating  
> Mention of heroin  
> Abusive FACE family dynamics  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Note: I am aware Likhtenshteyn is the Russian form of the German name Liechtenstein; as you may have noticed I use the Nation's first language for any country name they say, regardless of what language they're speaking in general.


	23. Chapter 23

Erszébet cursed and slapped the monster's claws aside with her sword, then had to jump out of the way of another blow. “Erika! I need more reach!” She shook out her arms and charged the monster again without waiting for an answer. 

“I'm – shit!” Erika called back, then, a minute later made a triumphant noise. Erszébet backed out of the fight and snatched the halberd from her hands and slammed it into the monster's head. It vanished and she froze, staring at where it had been.

“Oh!” Erika gasped. “Oh, I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Erszébet snapped, then turned and, glancing over Erika's shoulder, waved at Yekaterina and Natalya. “You're back?” 

“We heard gunfire,” Yekaterina said. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it was just one. It vanished.” She stared at the place it had been and scowled. 

“That's what they said would happen,” Erika said. “The forehead – if you hit it there, it disappears, at least for a little while.”

“Right. Welcome back Natalya,” Erszébet said. 

“I promised to look out for Lichtenstajn,” Natalya said stiffly. “I don't want Sviejcaryja angry at me for letting her down.”

“He wouldn't be angry at you, he knows you can't be everywhere.” Erika flexed her hand and rubbed her palm. 

Erszébet coughed politely to interrupt Natalya's skeptical look. “I was trying to catch up with Lengyelorzság -” Erszébet stopped as Natalya and Yekaterina gave her dubious looks. “Polen,” she clarified, “I saw him head off to go find Litvania to drag him to a walled garden he found in the annexe. I went to get Erika so we can have someone study the place for magic first, but we need to beat them there to be sure.”

“Did you ask Kareja what he thought?” Natalya asked. 

“He agreed that entering the annexe may not be as dangerous, but he's focusing on the clocks. Erika can't sense them and us like he can, so she's coming with me. Once we're there, I'll call him and see if he's changed his mind, but if we can get someone into the annexe...”

Natalya's eyes focused dangerously again and she reached through space for a long sword. She immediately tossed it to her other hand and shook out the one she'd used with a scowl.

Erika sighed a little. “I didn't think so many of us had these kinds of things still around.”

“Not all of us wound up as poor as you were, so they didn't get sold,” Yekaterina said. She leaned politely on her halberd, a tired and happy smile on her face. “We'll be fine.”

Erszébet stepped over to Natalya and tugged on her shirt. “Hey there, one sec?”

Natalya glanced her way, her expression still clouded with obsession. Erszébet grabbed her hair and kissed her hard on the mouth. Natalya yelped, and Erszébet heard the sword hit the ground before Natalya hugged her waist back and broke the kiss to lean against her shoulder, panting as though she'd been running.

“Right. I'm sorry,” she said faintly. “It's just been hard to stay focused.”

“It's okay, I know you're worried,” Erszébet sighed. “I'm worried too.”

It was hard to pick who to worry for. She glanced back towards the house and stroked Natalya's back as she relaxed against her chest. Gilbert would be fine. She knew he'd be fine; he was always fine, right up until he broke. Roderich... 

Sometimes those two were dreadfully alike. 

IIII

Mathieu tried to wash Alfred's shirt, but he knew it was a lost cause. At least Alfred's regular shirt had mostly dried, the blood on the undershirt only a faint orange outline. Mattie still tried to wash the one he'd lent him, so he could get a better idea of if it could be repaired at all. Maybe it could be made into a rag...

His hands were shaking, and not from cold. He never shivered from cold. The more he washed the shirt, the more blood came out of it. He'd already drained the tub twice. He didn't want to think about how badly hurt Alfred had been – how close he'd come to dying. If Arthur hadn't...

He didn't want to think about it.

Someone opened the bathroom door and shut it behind them. 

“What took you so long?” Russia said. “What were you doing?”

Mathieu froze. If Russia had come in here for privacy... He hadn't pulled the curtain at all, but Russia had just looked straight through him and went to the back wall. He gritted his teeth and kept washing the shirt, unsure if he was radiating the 'don't notice me' enough to hide the sound as well. If Russia had wanted privacy, well, that was a premium right now.

“I don't care if he's feeling harassed, I need to know now. Put him on,” Russia growled. “He can spare a minute – are you going to cooperate or not?”

The bath water was only faint pink now. Mathieu gave up on washing it more and drained the tub, uncertain if he wanted to risk running more water to rinse when it was rapidly becoming clear Russis was actively seeking to avoid being overheard as he carried on.

“What do you mean?” Russia asked. “I don't care about that. Where are you now?” He made a vaguely agreeing noise and began to pace. “We are making progress, are we not? What is that voice I hear?”

Mathieu collected Alfred's other shirts – still damp, but they'd be wearable – and hung up the ruined one in their place. 

“Why did you do that?” Russia continued. “I could tell something was behind it, but... Why the tricks?”

Mathieu considered just leaving, but he knew Russia would hear the door, certainly, if nothing else. He couldn't usually escape rooms completely unnoticed. He cleared his throat loudly and Russia spun around and hung up his phone immediately.

“What – how long have you been in here?” he demanded.

“The entire time,” Mathieu said gently. “I'm sorry, I thought you'd have seen me.”

“Ah.” Russia's expression retreated into remote calm, but Mathieu could see the calculation behind his eyes. 

Mathieu smiled at him. “I should go get Alfred his shirts. I'm sorry for eavesdropping.” He turned and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself in case Russia needed to make another call. He wasn't sure what else he could've said: you never could apologize to someone for their own mistakes.

Besides that, he'd have never gotten the truth if he asked who it was Russia had called.

IIII

Feliciano watched the light fade into evening with concern. He knew the other Nations were outside, trying to help them – had been trying since early afternoon – but another night was coming and they were no closer to the answers they needed than before: perhaps even further behind than they'd started.

“We should all try to sleep soon,” Japan suggested.

“No,” England said flatly. “I have to finish this first.”

“I wasn't going to insist,” Japan said smoothly. “but we shouldn't try to do any more group trips out until most of us have had another chance to rest and recuperate. We've been up a very long time, but I understand your situation is different. No one will try to make you sleep.”

“I'll wait up until Antonio and Lovino are back,” France said. He was seated at the table next to England, where he was working in a spare journal. “Someone should be up in case they need help upon their return.”

“I need to finish this,” England muttered. He was stiff and grimacing. Feliciano glanced back to the window, knowing it was pointless to say anything. England was going into withdrawal; he'd be even worse after he slept. Whatever he could get done now would be better than trying to sleep on it.

When France came over and sat by England, Feliciano got up and found anyone else to talk to. Russia had just come back out of the bathroom, and he went over and smiled as he started fishing. 

“How is Bielorussia doing?” Feli asked.

“Ah!” Russia startled and smiled cautiously at him. “She is fine, yes.”

“I see she called you after she left. Is Liechtenstein alright as well?”

“Yes, of course. Excuse me.” Russia turned and went into the kitchen. He got an annoyed look from China, but China found him something to do to help cook nonetheless. 

Feliciano stared around the room, but everyone had made themselves busy in one way or another. He wandered into the kitchen after Russia, only to be told there was no more work left to do. He lingered anyways.

“How was your trip to the past?” Feli asked. He didn't know much about what kind of spell Arthur had used, so figuring out what they likely had seen was impossible and had been worrying him for a few hours now. “You looked rather upset when you came back.”

“Ah,” China's face fell. “It was – it was hard.” He swallowed and glanced back towards where Japan sat at the tables. “I saw him die. I mean, I saw a lot of us die! We showed up where the monsters were, and that was always trouble, but...”

Feliciano nodded. “Yes. We won't have it happen again.”

“It's all the same in the end, isn't it?” China turned back to chopping. “That's the goal, at any rate.”

“Mm!” Feliciano smiled. “I'll leave you to your cooking, yeah?” He turned and went back to the tables. Gilbert was still putting Alfred's guns back together, but Ludwig, at least, had finished and Feliciano sat and tucked himself into his arms. Japan had also come to join them and laid a hand over the hilt of Gilbert's sword with a sigh.

“I'm sorry about this,” Japan said.

“Ah, don't get so sad about it,” Gilbert laughed softly. “I knew it was coming. The worst is that this is a damn terrible time for it. I don't want to leave it here.”

“We can think of something.” Japan hesitated, then pulled his short sword off his belt and offered it to him. “Do you think you could use this, at least in the meantime? You are a pity to lose as a swordsman.”

Gilbert blinked. He put down the gun pieces and took the sword and drew it, studying it with a small frown. “Maybe. It's not much more than a dagger, but it'll be more reliable than my aim.”

“I would happily let you have it,” Japan said.

“Doesn't Canada have a short sword as well?” Feliciano asked.

“It's a bowie knife,” Gilbert said. “About the same size as this, though.” He put the sword down again and finished reassembling Alfred's second gun. 

Feliciano glanced back to the beds, but Canada hadn't moved from his vigil beside Alfred's bed once he'd come back with his clean shirts.

A minute later, Gilbert was done with Alfred's guns and he stepped out into the open space of the safe room to spar with Japan with the short sword. Ludwig stepped away to use the bathroom and Feliciano pulled over the cleaning kit to start on his own guns. He eyed his ammo carefully, but since he'd been using his throwing knives he hadn't had to use them at all, but cleaning them was something to do, especially after what had happened to Lovino's. 

It was impossible not to eavesdrop on England and France beside him. It was half the reason he'd decided to stay.

“Your hand feels cold,” France said.

“I'm fine,” England snapped. “This is far from the worst withdrawal I've had; it's not even the first time it's happened under duress.”

“I know, mon ami. I just worry about you.”

“To what end?” England grumbled. “I can still work like this, Francis, just relax.”

France looked around and startled a little as he saw Feliciano watching him back. He gave him a shaky smile and stared back over at the spell circle before him. “When will they be back?” 

“Hopefully soon,” England shrugged. “But it doesn't matter. I can keep that open for another day without drain, even asleep.”

“Yes. And Antonio knows how to get back?”

“Yes, he does.” England groaned. “No, I did not hide any surprises in the spells for him.”

“I did not imply I feared that you had.”

England shot France an amused look. “Of course you didn't.”

Feliciano watched France tense and interrupted. “Inghilterra, did you know that your past self had put a shield on America?”

England looked past France to him, then shook his head cautiously. “No, I didn't know, but you have one as well.”

“What?'” Feliciano jumped, then scolded himself for the surprise. “What exactly is it?”

“It's just a ward – something to push off a source of harm. It has a high activation threshold, hence how injured Alfred got before it activated.” England squinted at him again, his expression remote. “It's more reactive to magic than physical damage.”

“That sounds like it might come in handy here, yeah!” He fidgeted in place again and noticed abruptly that his ankle was loose in his boot. He put down the piece he'd been cleaning and put his boot up on the bench, dreading the sight. He tried to tighten it without ruining the bow, but it fell apart in his hands as he tried. Shit. He should've gotten Ludwig to...

“Untied again?” Ludwig said. He sat on the bench and briskly redid the bow, double-knotting it without asking. “Feli?”

Feliciano threw his arms around his shoulders and buried his face in his shir, muffling a sob. He didn't want to cry, but...

“Feli, what's the matter?” Ludwig asked. 

“I – I'm sorry,” Feli stammered. “I f-forgot you were still here. I thought I'd have to make do again.” He swallowed, but he could still talk for the moment even as the past loomed in his mind. “I'm so tired of losing you. Please don't die.”

Ludwig tightened his arms around his back. “It's okay, Feli. I'm not going to die.” He twisted against him to look over the table. “Do you want me to finish cleaning your gun for you?”

Feliciano nodded against his chest, his focus completely shot. He remembered he was sitting next to England and France and got up rather than stay until they blew up at each other again. He pointed to the bedding area and waved, taking himself away from the risk of more stress. He trusted Ludwig with his gun; he just needed to lie down before something worse went wrong again.

IIII

Alfred woke up the second time after the attack to see Mattie sitting against the wall reading a book by his head. He smiled weakly up at him and reached up to touch his hand and squeeze it in greeting.

“You're back,” Alfred said.

“Hey,” Mattie smiled tiredly at him. “How are you doing?”

“I'm good,” Alfred said carefully. “What're you reading?”

Mattie turned the book so he could see the cover, then answered. “Kiss of the Fur Queen,” he said. “About Manitoba Cree in a residential school, and where their lives go afterwards.”

“You had it with you?” Alfred asked, trying not to ask about his glasses. He knew where they were; there was little chance of him being able to go retrieve them, not anytime soon.

“Yeah, I did.” Mattie stroked his hair out of his face and sighed. “Sorry, I forgot you don't have your glasses.”

“I know,” Alfred swallowed. “I'll go back for them when I get my energy back.”

Mattie's hand stopped on his hair. “You can't even count stairs in front of you without them, Alfred.”

“I can still go,” Alfred said firmly. Mattie's hand left his hair and, when Alfred looked up, his face was turned away. “C'mon, it'll be okay,” he coaxed. “You can come with me, but I need to go myself. I have to get them back.”

“I know that, but Alfred...” Mattie patted his shoulder. “The monster will think I look like you if it even sees me at all.”

“You're worrying too much.” Alfred scowled. “You only say we look alike when you're trying to talk me out of things. You know we don't; we're brothers, not twins.”

“We look enough alike for this.”

“Not for that thing.”

“You need to stop thinking about what Arthur will think of you and stop letting him make you do stupid things like this!”

Alfred flinched and dug his nails into Mattie's hand. “He's not making me do anything.”

“Then why can't I get your glasses for you?” Mattie said. “Because it's not the monster who needs to see you do it yourself.”

Alfred turned away from him and curled up on the mattress. Mattie cursed under his breath and touched his shoulder with his fingertips. 

“I'm sorry, Alfred, I was unfair. Please don't do this,” he begged. “I won't stop you, I just want to know that at least you appreciate how dangerous this is. You don't have to do it yourself.”

“I know,” Alfred said. “That's why I have to go.”

“Please don't go without me.”

“I need him to know I can take care of myself.”

“Why now?”

“Because if I don't, he'll try to do everything to protect us – protect me – and he'll drain himself to death.”

Mattie went still again. Alfred turned to look at him cautiously and while he lacked detail, he could see enough to know Mattie wasn't looking at him anymore. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Alfred breathed. “It's happened in the past. I saw it, more than once.” He swallowed against the memory of the red lines and the feel of Arthur's spells on his skin. He knew what his magic felt like from different sources. It all felt different on his skin. There was more than one reason Arthur had never been able to teach him much.

“Alright.” Mattie cautiously stroked his hair again; Alfred sighed.

“I'd tell him what I suspected about Italy and he'd just... take on too much. But if I told Italy about the risk to him, Italy would be the one to try too hard and die. It seemed anytime I tried to talk to someone, half the time it lead to them dying.”

“But the rest of the time we all tried to work together, didn't we?”

“It never actually saved us, did it?” Alfred said, knowing he sounded sulky and not bothering to fix it. “I don't want to see him die for me again. Not him, or Italy, or anyone. I'm just so tired of it all; I can damn well show him I can do this.”

Mattie made an agreeing noise and stroked his hair. “He's not really going to believe it Alfred, you know that.”

“What else can I do?” Alfred sat up to face him, spreading his arms in frustration. “You know how he is! If he thinks magic can solve it, he's going to try it! He doesn't have a stop button on that, so what can you do to keep him from frying himself aside from making him hate me enough to not try and save me?”

“You think I know so little I'd do that to myself?”

Alfred choked on bile and looked warily up at Arthur. He was standing by the beds, his grimoire in his hands. Alfred swallowed hard. “Arthur, please. We can't talk about this right now.”

“Shut up.” Arthur wiped a hand across his forehead, leaving his skin gleaming. He was sweating, even though the saferoom was almost too cold. Alfred's skin crawled at feeling the bare air on his chest all of a sudden. “You stupid little idiot. You think you can just get me to do what you want by manipulating me like that? You want me to just give up and let you fumble your way along by yourself? You'll be crawling back to me whenever I leave you alone, begging me to give you my attention!”

“You shut up!” Alfred snarled. Mattie took his hand and squeezed it hard, trying to whisper to him to calm down, but Alfred pried his hand off and stood up.

“Don't you dare tell me to shut up!” Arthur snapped.

“You're crashing; you're exhausted, and you've already overworked yourself,” Alfred said, his voice carefully controlled. “You know this because this is exactly what you always do when you're in withdrawal. You're in no state to talk to anyone who isn't your boyfriend and you're not thinking straight. Will you stop yelling at me for being worried about you?”

Arthur took a step forward as if to hit him, and Alfred jerked back, bumping into Mattie's chest as he stood up behind him. Arthur sneered at him and snapped his hand out to one side. His bag – his spell tools – jumped into his hands. 

“No!” Alfred jumped forward and grabbed Arthur's shoulder, only to be dragged with him in his teleport spell. Arthur threw him to the ground downstairs, and Alfred's head cracked into a bookcase as he hit the floor.

“You fucking idiot, what the Hell did you do that for?” Arthur snapped.

“You can't do this!” Alfred shouted. “I know what you're thinking, and you can't! You dont' have the energy! Don't waste it on something this stupid!”

“You will not tell me what I can or cannot do!” Arthur took two steps towards him, only to halt in place. Alfred pressed against the bookcase, terrified to move in case Arthur or the monster noticed him again, his heart pounding in his throat. 

“You will see for yourself that I can do this.” Arthur announced. He turned to stand between Alfred and the monster, flipping open his grimoire to rip out one page, then another, laying them across each other in front of himself. “You assume I am not good enough to know myself, and you are wrong. Watch me and see why.”

Alfred tucked his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He was helpless – he couldn't see, he didn't have his guns – he didn't even have his shirt. He was going to watch Arthur die and everything they'd gotten done with him, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abusive FACE family dynamics  
> Mention of heroin withdrawal  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Since I expect a few people will ask why I changed the shoelaces scene from the game: considering his age, an inability to tie shoelaces is not something you can just "learn" all of a sudden under duress. I'm sure he's been in worse situations with that problem. Coordination issues are a common symptom of being autistic, and I wanted to stay consistent to that headcanon of mine more than the story.
> 
> "Kiss of the Fur Queen" is a real book, although I have not read it yet. It's on my list.


	24. Chapter 24

The spell Arthur was building was huge, much larger than Alfred usually saw him work especially in a space so bare of ambient magic. The monster wasn't attacking; it appeared to just be waiting for him to finish.

Alfred could feel the spirit by his shoulder, but not well enough to see more than the faintest outline. It wasn't the young girl, and it wasn't the emptiness of the monster across from them. It felt almost familiar. 

“He's playing into its hands,” the spirit said.

“Do you want to try telling him?” Alfred said. The voice was the same one he'd heard downstairs before. “Go right ahead, it'll be as much good as me saying it.”

“He's wasting his energy, not understanding what it really is.”

Alfred made a disgusted noise and hugged his knees tighter. He felt more than heard the spirit sigh and leave, and he wished he hadn't snapped at it. He didn't want to be so alone.

Arthur was speaking under his breath, a mix of languages and some words that weren't languages at all but just tricks for memory. He could identity that, at large, one spell was Latin and the other Welsh, from a time when he and Wales still get along, but pieces of each were built in Brythonic and Gaelic and Anglo-Saxon – pieces of his magic he'd gotten from the forces that shaped him. Arthur understood syncretism from more experience than many people would ever live through.

The spell was done surprisingly fast in terms of ceremonial magic. Alfred heard the first steps of the Nations coming to find them the more normal way when Arthur released his spell on the monster. Alfred had expected it to vanish, but when it might've done so Arthur activated the second spell. It was his preferred holding spell – the spiked cords – but Alfred could see under it the framing of much more complex chains. The first matured seconds later and Alfred's eyes ached as he watched the monster's magically-constructed body get ripped apart in front of him.

It only took a few seconds total. Alfred pulled himself to his feet as Arthur brought his bag around and carefully put his grimoire away. 

“You did it,” Alfred said, his throat tight. “You – thanks, Arthur. Do you know... did you see my glasses?”

“The monster was holding them,” Arthur said, his voice just as careful. “I don't know where they wound up. Perhaps you should look for them.”

Alfred flinched back from him and half-turned away, hurt by his words. 

“Is it over?” Feliciano asked.

“Yeah, it is.” Alfred said with more confidence than he felt. “The monster's banished at least for a few hours.”

“Oh good,” Feliciano said, obviously relieved. “I'll take a look in the other room for your glasses, alright?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Alfred knelt and started to search the floor, his stomach churning as he realized Arthur likely just wanted to see him do it. He wished the spirit was back downstairs so he could ask for help, but whoever it was had had very little energy: hanging around Arthur during that spell would've been even more draining.

After a minute or so of searching, Alfred found them on the ground directly in front of Arthur. He put them on and turned to face Arthur, ready to challenge him for the insult and surprised to find him staring straight ahead. 

“Arthur, they were right here,” Alfred said, but his stomach was sinking fast. “Why didn't you...?” He stood up to stare more closely at Arthur's face. In response, Arthur simply bared his teeth a little and leaned back.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

He looked as Alfred had expected: pale, sweating, his eyes dilated. The withdrawal made it hard to tell if he was having any worse reaction to the magic use. Alfred raised one hand.

“Arthur, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Arthur's mouth twisted in distaste. “Don't ask me stupid questions like that.”

Alfred dropped his hand, the answer clear. “So you are blind.”

“It will pass.”

Of course it would. It could also last only a few hours or a week. Part of him wanted to start panicking, but there was no point. He hugged Arthur anyways, for a thousand stupid reasons and most of all to comfort himself. Arthur yelped – and then the lights went out.

“Shit!” Alfred jerked back, but didn't let go of Arthur's shoulder. “The lights are out.”

“What? Why?” Arthur stepped back, his shoulder going up. “I can't feel anything going on.”

“Do you remember where Japan said the light switch was?”

“I'm getting it!” Gilbert's voice called from near the entrance.

“Quickly!” Alfred called.

Alfred ignored that he hadn't noticed their presence, wondering where Mattie was and knowing it was pointless. There was a soft voice calling his name, the same one he'd heard earlier. 

“Hurry up! Now!”

He could see the outline of the ghost in the dark, because the Sight relied on nothing as mundane as light or vision. Alfred pressed down on Arthur's shoulder and then let go and followed the ghost. He trusted it not to walk him into a bookcase and started into a light jog. When the ghost stopped, Alfred put his hand out and found the door, then the doorhandle. 

It was so cold it hurt his hand. 

He didn't have his guns, not even a knife, but his mouth formed the words for a holding spell and threw it open. 

There was another ghost in the room. For a moment, Alfred thought it was the spirit he'd been following, but the figure turned and the lights came on at the same moment. The air filled with heat and there was no one else in the room.

Italy was laid out across the floor, too limp to be unconscious, too grey for a heartbeat.

“LUDWIG!” Alfred screamed. “Get in here, NOW!”

IIII

Antonio put his back to the bookcases in the third floor library. “Well, this isn't too much, is it?” he laughed. 

“Oh shut up,” Lovino groused. He fired a short burst from his machine gun into the chest of one of the monster's, driving it back to give him time to aim his handgun and fire into its forehead. “Hah, good!”

Antonio made a pleased sound. “You're getting better,” he commented, turning to slash his axe across the face of the monster next to him. “Would you get this one, please?”

“You lazy bum!” He turned to do it and staggered. “Wha... No, not again! Please!”

Antonio turned rapidly, in time to see Lovino grab for the shelves and fail to hold on. His lover collapsed to the floor in front of a second monster climbing the bookcases to flank him. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Antonio turned back to the one he was facing and drew his gun one handed.

Lovino whimpered on the floor and went limp. 

IIII

The space had no defined limits that Feliciano could see. It was dark and featureless, and it was very cold. He didn't feel anything else, either, which was quite odd for him in a dream.

Off to his left, a monster stood, tall and looming with its clawed hands resting lightly on the ground and black eyes glittering.

“Am I supposed to follow you?” Feliciano asked.

The monster nodded and raised a hand to beckon him to follow.

Feliciano started that way, wondering if this would lead to yet another fight. He thought he saw, behind it, the figures of the Nations. Ludwig was screaming. They appeared dozens of times each, their images doubling over – some bloody, some tired, most screaming. When he tried to focus on one, the others disappeared around them. His heart rose into his throat. If the monster had them trapped, he needed to get them out.

“Don't...” a voice began. “Let me... I'm not... of it, so I can...”

Feliciano stopped in his tracks. He knew that voice. That voice had no reason to be here. “What is it?”

“I need you to... able to fight it. Please.”

“What are you asking me for?” The monster, ahead of him, gestured impatiently at him, but Feliciano took a step back.

“Focus on me. I'm too weak, I can't... I need a body, otherwise it won't...” There was a longer sigh, then, “Please come this way.”

Feliciano kept a careful eye on the monster, but backed up, focusing on the voice and the scattered memories he had of him – if it was really him. “Where am I going?”

“That's up to you. Think of this like a dream.”

Feliciano closed his eyes for a moment and pictured somewhere familiar. “And you'll be there?”

He felt the sigh, and the voice was much steadier now. “After I deal with this.”

Light just turned on around then, and the valley smelled of flowers and anxiety. Feliciano opened his eyes and looked at a field where the details his memory hadn't filled in had entered themselves to suit his mood: trapped, anxious, and uneasy. Edelweiss spread as far as the eye could see up into the mountains and forest around him. He crouched down in the field, awash in memory.

“You look well, Venezia.”

Feliciano stood up rapidly, his past crashing over him all at once. He stumbled back and smoothed out his skirts, realizing he was wearing them all at once – skirts, apron, and hair long enough to curl around his shoulders. 

“Or should it be Veneziano?” the speaker continued. “I'm not sure what would make you most comfortable.”

Feliciano turned his smiling face on, but it was cracked around the edges. “Sacro Romano.”

The Holy Roman Empire smiled, his eyes crinkling with it. “Is this just business then? I am here to help you.”

“How are you here at all?” Feliciano demanded, dazed and insecure. 

“I've been around for a long time,” he said. “Attached to my brothers, I wound up here with them and the spells on the house make it easier for me to see and interact with the things around me. I mean, I know you're using the name Feliciano now.”

“Oh,” Feli bit his lip and blinked rapidly, seeking anything else to ask – anything less personal, less about finding out Ulrich wasn't as dead as he'd thought. “Where am I?”

Ulrich exhaled softly and glanced around before part of the forest near them changed. “Let me show you. This is going to be – strange to you, but I can explain better when you see how it works.” He glanced over Feliciano's clothes. “You might want to change back to what you had on before.”

Feliciano looked down his body and swallowed, glancing nervously at Ulrich before he tried focusing just on what he last remembered wearing – black trousers, undershirt, binder, and t-shirt. “That better?” he looked shyly up at Ulrich and was relieved to find him smiling at him as patiently as he always had. “I'm ready.”

Ulrich nodded his approval and offered him a hand to lead him through the trees into a different field. Abruptly, the forest around them was different, even though Feli couldn't put his finger on how. They came out of the woods and Feliciano found himself staring at the front of the mansion in Kyoto all over again, Japan and Gilbert standing at the front door looking impatient. Feliciano halted.

“No!” he gasped. “How are you – how can we be here?”

“It's okay, Feli,” Ulrich said. He let go of his hand and waited. “We're in a – think of it as a dream. It's very like a dream. Things aren't real like they would be somewhere else. You're in control, I'm not going to let anything go wrong. Do you believe me?”

Feliciano looked him straight in the eye. “No.”

Ulrich closed his mouth and sighed. “You only have so much time. You can't stay here very long. Please, Feli, you need to think of something that will make you believe me?”

Feliciano stared at the ground and wrapped his hand around Ulrich's, remembering brooms and family and friends. “You remember me, don't you?”

“I do.”

“Why did you love me?”

Ulrich smiled. “You tried to insult me by gifting me your –” He coughed. “Your dirty underwear before a campaign.”

Feliciano snorted. “Was it an insult?” he said firmly.

Ulrich bowed and kissed his hand. “It was an honour.” 

Feliciano swallowed and nodded, too confused to feel anything but mild relief at the response. “Alright,” he said. “I believe you.”

Ulrich started walking towards the mansion again. “There's something we need to find inside the mansion in order for you to understand.”

Feliciano jogged a little to catch up with Ulrich's much longer legs. “To understand what?” he asked.

“The mansion,” Ulrich said. He waved to Japan and Gilbert and got an impatient wave back. 

Feliciano looked between him and the mansion, certain both should look somehow different. There was no sign at all of what the mansion was like – no shadows, no menace; nothing. If anything it felt clearer here than it had before. Ulrich looked exactly as he'd last seen him – tall, with short blond hair under a small cap, dressed in something not-quite-modern, the black slacks and fitted jacket that looked more like the early 19th century than modern, but neither Japan nor Gilbert appeared to feel any need to comment. 

“What took you so long?” Gilbert said.

“Feliciano thought he saw something, that's all,” Ulrich said. “Are you wanting to go in now?”

“I don't believe this will be as interesting as you seem to think,” Japan said.

“Relax for a minute.” Gilbert laughed and pushed open the door. “You'll find something to like in here if you give it a shot.” Japan made a cross noise and followed him inside.

Feliciano started in after them, only for Ulrich to catch his shoulder. 

“You don't have to worry about them. They won't get hurt here.”

“That doesn't matter,” Feliciano said. “You know why, don't you?”

He waited long enough to see Ulrich smile before he pushed through the door, his heart aching all over again. It was the same as the last smile he'd seen on his face before he'd left and never came back.

IIII

Antonio ejected the clip from his gun and checked how many bullets he had left before he put it back in. Two left. He'd wasted shots, but he hadn't had any choice. He holstered the gun and dropped his axe before falling to his knees beside Lovino and pulled his head into his lap. He pulled the journal England had given them out of Lovino's bag, the one with the spell circle in it, but he could already tell it had lost power.

He tried the words anyways; tried and failed. 

“Lovito,” he crooned. “Lovito, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” He smoothed Lovino's hair out of his face, the touch of his skin making his nerves shred and shiver uncontrollably. Lovino was too cold. Just too cold. He held him closer as if his own body heat could bring him back. 

“What are you doing here?” England asked.

Antonio froze.

“When did you show up?” England continued, stepping into the last aisle of the library.. “I didn't even know you knew this was here.”

“I...” Antonio swallowed and glanced up at him. England looked fine. He looked calm and together and like he didn't have the first clue what was going on. “Fuck.”

England rolled his eyes and started to turn away.

“Arthur, please,” Antonio began, halting him in place at the use of his personal name. “Look, this is – complicated, but – look at this journal, would you? You gave this to me. Can't you just – make it work again?” He thrust the book at him, open to the circle in question. 

England looked like he might refuse, but he glanced at the circle and stopped to give it another look over. “I don't even know what this is for.”

“Don't you trust your own work?”

“No,” England said simply. “I also don't trust you not to have stolen it.”

“How could I have stolen something done in your hand that you dont' remember doing?” Antonio asked, his grip on Lovino tightening further.

“Did you kill him? Is that what you're trying to fix?” England said mildly. 

Antonio swallowed his heart out of his throat. He closed the book shakily and clutched Lovino's body closer. “I didn't kill him. It's – something happened. We're not supposed to be here, Arthur, please –”

England snorted. “It's been a long time since you've begged like that.” 

He threw the book at his head. “Fuck you, Bretaña! You don't care about anyone but yourself!”

England dodged and summoned the book back to his hands. “I need a real explanation before I can do anything with what you're trying to tell me, Anthony.”

Antonio gritted his teeth, but England was staying. He was listening. That's what he'd wanted him to do, dammit, he couldn't get angry at him treating him like shit after he begged for his help. 

“Start at the beginning,” England prompted.

Antonio swallowed. “Something's trying to kill Venecia. It probably succeded. Whatever it did, it took you out too and now we can't get back – to the right timeline. We're not from this one, okay? We had to – do something here, because something we did affected the past.”

“What did you do?”

Antonio shook his head. “You haven't run into it yet, you'd think I was trying to scare you.”

“You're carrying around your axe and there's shreds of strange magic all over you both; you've travelled through time with a spell I don't even know how to create, and you think telling me what's trying to kill you is what will make me think you're lying?”

Antonio had to agree that, put that way, he was right. “You came here as a group with nine other Nations, right, because Alfred suggested coming to see the possibly haunted mansion?” Antonio watched for England to nod, then carried on. “It is haunted. There's some kind of – some kind of monster, or monsters that show up, over and over again. We can't kill it, just vanish it. The first time you came, everyone but Venecia died. He – talked the monster into letting him go back, to try and save us.”

“How did you wind up here, at the mansion?” England demanded. “You're not part of the group.”

“Lovino –” Antonio held his body tighter. “He woke up, in the middle of the night, feeling like he was dying a couple times in a row. Until he could wake me. We came to help. Something – something we did sent some of the monsters from our time into the past. We came back to kill them so they didn't – didn't change the past. So we don't do anything to the future. Except now we can't get back.”

“And because your present has gotten worse, you want me to send you back instead?”

Antonio dropped his eyes. “If you need to raise the power for it, I –”

“Don't be fucking stupid!” England sneered. “I don't have the time for this!”

Antonio looked up, shocked, to see England storming away, the journal still in his hand. He stared after him and choked, swallowing painfully. He should've expected this. Should've known. Selfish, rude, irresponsible fucking English.

He looked around himself and got up, carrying Lovino to the far end of the aisle. He laid him down and took off his coat to cushion his head, even knowing he wouldn't...

Enough.

He cleaned up the signs of their fight, then retreated to join him, unable to think of what he could possibly do that might help. And even though the touch of his skin made Antonio's throat catch and his body crawl, he pulled Lovino into his arms again and began to sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abusive FACE family dynamics  
> Non-graphic character death  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Next chapter wraps up the last of the game-play and enters into the first part of the end-game I wrote for the story. Thanks to everyone who's read this far and I hope you find the ending satisfying.


	25. Chapter 25

Alfred followed Ludwig up the stairs into the saferoom, Arthur's hand on his arm as they climbed. Alfred stepped out of the way, pulling Arthur to one side as the others came up behind them. 

“Do you want to sit down at the table or on a bed?” Alfred asked.

“The table,” Arthur said. “If I – if I could ask your help, I still have work I need to do.”

“You should sleep first,” Alfred said firmly, his skin crawling at having to talk to him more. “If it's going to go away in a few hours, you should be as rested as you can be to take advantage of it. If not, then we'll work something else out. A – a few hours break won't kill us, and you're not...”

He didn't know what to say. Ludwig walked past them to lay Feliciano's body down on the beds. Alfred could hear him muffling sobs as he lay down by his side, unable it seemed to leave him. 

“What happened?” Japan asked. “What's wrong with Itaria?”

“We don't know,” Alfred said. “His heart just... stopped. There's no sign of injury, he's just...”

“But – what do we do now?” Japan said.

“I don't know,” Alfred repeated. Arthur hadn't moved, simply waited patiently with one hand lightly on his arm. 

“What's happened?” Ivan cut in.

Alfred groaned and raised his voice. “Everyone, get over here!” he shouted. “I don't want to explain this again!”

It took everyone maybe a minute to gather around. Alfred swallowed and laughed unhappily. “Okay, look. Arthur took us down to the annexe again. He – got the monster out of there, or badly hurt it. I found my glasses, we thought we were okay, then the lights went out. When we found Italy again, he was...” Alfred bit his lip until his throat cleared. “His heart had stopped. It's not coming back. As far as we can tell, he's dead or as good as.”

“And I'm magic-blind,” Arthur added simply. “I don't know for how long.”

“Oh again, Opium?” Yao groaned. “At least some things never change.”

“Oh shut up!” Arthur snarled. “Just because Italy is dead doesn't mean we're out of options! He wasn't the only one who knows what's going on this time!”

“I will not leave him behind on your word!” China snapped. “Shut up!”

“Yes, pick on the blind man. How brave of you, attacking me when I'm down yet again!”

Alfred jerked free from Arthur's hold and darted between the gathered Nations to reach the bathroom; the only room he could shut a door and start the water running to drown out the sound of shouting behind him. He jerked open a curtain and stopped, seeing Mathieu sitting on the stool with François perched on the edge of the tub.

“Ah, hello Alfred!” François said. “I thought you were helping Arthur settle.”

“He, uh, got distracted.” Alfred struggled to smile but couldn't manage it. “I'm okay.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Mattie asked. “I remember what he had you doing last time, you shouldn't have to...”

Alfred shook his head, his arms shivering. “Mattie, Antonio and Lovino are trapped. Remember? His grimoire's the only way we can get them back.”

Mattie cursed under his breath and stood up to wrap him in his arms. “You shouldn't have to do this,” he said. “You made him leave you alone years ago.”

“I will stay as nearby as I can,” François assured him. “I promise, Mathieu, I won't leave them alone.”

“I know,” Matthie groaned and turned his head on Alfred's shoulder. “I still worry. Look what already happened.”

“I'm sorry,” Alfred said.

“Non, Alfred, don't apologize for this,” François said. “You did nothing –”

“If I hadn't said anything –” 

“If you hadn't what?” Mattie stepped back and stared into his face. “Told him the truth when he demanded it? Reminded him he's done this a dozen times, that he cannot manage his temper on a good day, much less when he's in withdrawal – as if he hasn't been through this over and over again. I almost wish he'd been on a bender before we came here, at least alcohol withdrawal puts him to bed until its done.”

“With our luck, the seizures would kill him and we would have yet another restriction on our actions here, mon petit,” François added.

Alfred sighed heavily and took the step forward to bury his face against Mattie's chest. They were right. He wasn't responsible for Arthur's actions. He'd done everything he could to try and keep him calm and it just wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

IIII

Arthur sulked at the table, running his hands over his grimoire as though feeling the magic in it would tell him what he needed to know. It could almost work – it wasn't impossible to do magic while blinded, just difficult. For the same reason Alfred had never had much success with ceremonial magic, Arthur couldn't do magic while blind: the lines had to be so precise that, if he was off by half a millimetre, he would weaken a spell to near uselessness or worse.

Still, the touch of magic on his fingertips was a relief. He tilted his head towards the soft voices talking in the kitchen, but didn't bother to try and see them. He was still so deeply spent he couldn't even see light and dark – everything was black. 

“Is your arm badly hurt?” Russia asked from very close.

Arthur yelped and stopped rubbing at the bruise under his sleeve, pulling it down as though he could make short sleeves extend by will. “No, I'm fine. It's just a bruise.”

“Good. I would hate for Prussiya to have injured your arm in addition to the rest of your problems.”

Arthur gritted his teeth, then made himself answer. “He has done nothing worse than he had to, no.”

“Da,” Russia's voice laughed softly at him. “You would not listen. Perhaps you will next time?”

Not bloody likely, Arthur thought, but he knew not to say that out loud. 

“In the room, is the table with the papers still intact?” Russia asked. 

“As far as I know.” Arthur turned to try and direct an incredulous expression his way. 

Yao groaned, further away. “We need to sleep before we go do anything else to destabilize our situation,” he complained. “We are going to simply compound our mistakes at this rate.”

“It will do us little good to wait.” Russia said. “If just you and I go, we are strong enough to defend ourselves and together we can get out.”

Arthur bit his tongue; he knew full well he'd wasted the spell. The monster would be hours repairing the damage he'd done, but with everyone exhausted, Antonio and Lovino in the past, and Feliciano now dead there was no chance of getting anywhere except, perhaps, making the creature fear him. To that end... “If you would let me,” he began. “I can do a simple spell on your swords that will make them more effective against the monster.”

“Do you even have the energy?” Yao's voice was filled with skepticism. “I would rather you spend your efforts repairing the damage you've done, not trying to buy our favour back with cheap tricks.”

Arthur bristled and forced himself to shut up. “These 'cheap tricks' are plenty effective; ask Japan if you doubt me so much. I can set them to self-maintainance.”

“How long do you need?” Russia asked.

“...at least an hour,” Arthur said. “I will need to ask someone to help draw them, but that's all.”

“I refuse,” Yao snapped. “I will not help you abuse that boy more. You will not do this.”

“It is up to him what he decides to do,” Arthur snapped. “He doesn't need you interfering to protect him.”

“Yes,” Yao laughed. “And yet you have convinced him he is worthless if he doesn't do what you ask. You're despicable.”

Arthur heard his footsteps walk away and clenched and unclenched his hands on the table.

“I will sleep a few hours,” Russia said simply. He put his sword cane down on the table beside him. “If you can get this done before I wake, I would be grateful. A few hours will suffice, yes?”

“Thank you,” Arthur said grudgingly. He took the sword and drew it from the sheath, measuring the width on his fingers and flipping open his journal to the back to start sketching out the sigil he needed for when he could find someone – if not Alfred, perhaps Francis – to finish it for him.

It wasn't very long before Francis greeted him softly and sat down next to him, resting one hand on his shoulder as he settled. “What are you working on?”

“A spell to damage spirits,” Arthur said. “If I apply it to Russia's sword, and make it absorb the energy it encounters, it will do more damage to the monster.”

“Ah, yes.” Francis stroked his hand down his back. “Will it work without exact precision?”

“Not nearly as well,” Arthur exhaled hard. “If I could have your help, it would be appreciated.”

“My help, or Alfred's?”

Arthur snorted. “It should be very simple for him, so you might be able to do it.”

“But it would be better if he did it.”

“Yao won't accept my help if I ask him,” Arthur snapped. “He thinks I've convinced Alfred he's useless if he doesn't do what I want.”

“Yao has lived with you in the past,” Francis said simply. “Of course he will worry.”

Arthur tensed and thought about hitting Francis, stopping himself before he did it. He needed Francis' help right now. He ran his fingers over the notes he'd made and slid them over to Francis. “Can you read the page out for me?”

Francis did so without question, sliding his hand over Arthur's to thread their fingers together. Arthur relaxed as Francis read, grateful he could still write at least if he was careful. When he finished the page, Arthur dictated a few more instructions to him then rubbed at his temples as they throbbed, his body feeling sick to his stomach. 

“If you could ask Alfred if he's willing to copy this out for me onto the parchment paper I have in my bag, for oil work, I'd appreciate it,” he said. “He can have full access to my bag.”

“I'll let him know.” Francis kissed him on the cheek, and Arthur pushed him off with a huff.

“Can you get me another journal to write in?” Arthur sighed. “I need to feel out what I can do for your boyfriend and his pet.”

Arthur heard the catch in Francis' breath, but he didn't try to determine if it was hurt at his choice of words, or surprise that he was doing it at all. He started sketching as soon as Francis handed him an empty journal, feeling out the details in his mind and with his hands, trying to feel if he could get past the exhaustion dragging him down. He was tired and only getting sicker as time went by, but if he could figure out anything that might simplify the spell, he might be able to talk Alfred through it.

They didn't have any other options right now.

IIII

“You disgust me,” Yao said. He glared at Russia as he joined him on the mattresses. “I thought you liked Alfred.”

“I do.” Russia shrugged. “I will not assume he cannot refuse Arthur; he has done so in the past. If it was important to him, he would refuse. I will not worry about him when I have not found him to wish me to do so.”

Yao scoffed at him, but Russia had never been in Arthur's home. Yao lay down and faced away from him, giving him a view of Germany where he lay at Italy's side.

“Will you still come with me to the annexe?” Russia asked.

“Yes, of course.” Yao groaned. “I'm not going to get us killed for my morals; but this piece of Arthur's work is not a necessity. I will not take it if he cannot do it himself.”

“Yes,” Russia said pleasantly. “We are comrades.”

Yao rolled his eyes again and refused to respond. He wasn't tired, but he knew he needed to lie down anyways – at least he could conserve energy, even if he couldn't sleep. From this position, he could see what was going on in much of the rest of the room, so when Japan approached Germany, Yao opted to watch until he figured out what he was doing. It appeared he was washing Italy's face while talking quietly to Germany. It sounded like he might be trying to coax Germany away from Italy's side. Yao wished him luck.

After a few minutes, Japan turned his attention back to Italy and froze. 

“Itaria? Feli!” he shouted.

Germany jerked up and choked. “What? What is it?”

“I thought – I thought I saw his eyes move.” Japan brushed a hand over Italy's face again and pulled an eyelid back. Yao got up and walked over, more curious than tired now. 

“You thought you saw that?” Yao asked.

“He looks better,” Germany said hopefully.

Yao wasn't sure he'd take Germany's word for anything at the moment, but Feliciano's skin looked less grey than it had when he first lay down. It could have been the light; it could be a lot of things. “May I check something, Déguó?” Yao asked.

Germany startled again and sat back to give him space. Japan did as well, and Yao hesitantly began to do a check of Feliciano's reflexes. The Nation still wasn't breathing, and his heart wasn't beating that he could tell, but that was never a sure thing with them. What was more sure, however, was reflexes, and as Yao went over them he got more response than he'd expected. 

“What is it?” Japan asked. “You've noticed something.”

“Nobody checked his reflexes before did they?” Yao asked.

“Not that I saw,” Japan said. “He was very clearly dead.”

“He still has no heartbeat,” Germany said miserably. He held Feliciano's hand and stroked the skin with his thumb.

“That means little to us.” Yao shook his head. “Does his skin feel... different?”

“Some.” His eyes held painful hope.

Yao wasn't sure if this was to be cruelty or not, but he could not bring himself to lie. “He still has some reflexes,” Yao said. “Yìdàlì may not be dead anymore.”

IIII

A hoarse gasp woke Antonio from his daze. Lovino convulsed in his arms; Antonio let him go and turned him onto his side as he choked and coughed his way back into consciousness. 

“Lovino? Love, are – you're back. You're back.” Antonio bit his lip, but he was crying again – he hadn't thought he still had tears left. 

He didn't get a direct response, but Lovino started swearing breathily. After several minutes, he stopped coughing and curled up on the floor, obviously pained but just as obviously alive. Antonio swallowed his questions and stroked his shoulder until he moved again, reassuring himself every few minutes with a touch to his skin to confirm it was warming – slowly, but warm nonetheless.

“Stop that,” Lovino mumbled. “What's with you?”

“You were dead.”

“Hurts too much not to have been. What's new?”

Antonio swallowed. “Lovito, you don't... don't remember? Do you know where we are?”

Lovino made a muffled cross sound, but didn't answer. Antonio cautiously pulled him back up into his lap and Lovino went without complaint, folding against his chest, his ear pressed where he liked it over Antonio's heart. 

Even knowing he had to explain at some point, Antonio couldn't bring himself to start – not yet. Nothing was happening yet anyways. 

It was another few minutes before Lovino cursed softly. “...shit. How'd I come back?” he mumbled.

“I don't know,” Antonio said. “You didn't – nothing happened I could see to kill you, your heart just... stopped.” 

“And it just started back up again?” Lovino's nails dug into his skin. “Why aren't we back?”

“The – the spell didn't work.”

“Well, will it work now?”

Antonio swallowed. “...I don't have it anymore.”

“What!?” Lovino tried to sit up and started coughing violently again. He sagged and finally had to push his way out of Antonio's arms to lie on the floor and cough. His breath rattled in his throat and Antonio regretted having nothing to offer – no water, and no answers.

“Arthur came by, from this time,” Antonio said dully. “I tried – I asked him for help. He refused, and took the journal with him when he left.”

“That fucking son of a bitch,” Lovino growled, then had to cough again. “Shit. So we're stuck until he feels charitable and comes back?”

“I think so.”

Lovino shook his head and crawled back into his lap, tucking his head against his chest once more, sagging with exhaustion. Antonio stroked his hair out of his face and kissed his forehead, knowing how miserable he had to feel. Waking up from death was never pleasant; waking up with slowed healing was one of the worst ways to come back. How Lovino had managed it here, when everyone had assured him they couldn't, Antonio didn't know. 

“I hate him so much,” Lovino whispered. He swallowed roughly, then sighed and added, “I love you.”

Antonio smiled and pressed his face into his hair, half his mind on a thankful prayer. “I love you too.”

IIII

There was nothing in the dream, if that was what this really was, that made Feliciano believe any of Ulrich's assurances they were safe. He stayed perhaps a half a foot away from Ulrich, desperately wanting to cling to him for reassurance, and much too angry and confused to do it.

“I don't understand why you're here or how you can be,” Feliciano asked. “You died – you died a long time ago, in Europe. Not here.”

Ulrich shook his head. “I did, but I didn't... I still exist, some. I wasn't brought back, but – we never die as long as someone remembers us. It's easy to stay close to you and Gilbert and Ludwig. Surprisingly easy, here, to stay close to Ludwig even though he doesn't know who I am.”

Ahead of them, Gilbert was chasing Japan around the first floor library. Feliciano watched them, wishing he could join them, or ask them to stop, but he just felt numb. “Why here?”

“The house is built around controlling power.” Ulrich said simply. “When you came in here, it was – Nations are power. Less than half of you know how to do anything with it, much less shield yourselves. I know how, and the house doesn't – it's not automatically a disadvantage to be dead here, as long as you can protect yourself.”

Feliciano's stomach jolted. “Don't say that,” he whispered. “Am I...”

“You're not dead,” Ulrich said immediately. “You died, but I got you away from it before it could –”

A book hit the wall a few feet head, and Japan yelped. 

Feliciano flinched. “Gil!” he snapped. “Stop it!” 

Gilbert climbed up a bookcase to look over at them, completely unrepentant but worried nonetheless. “Hey, you okay?”

“It's okay,” Ulrich said. “We're just talking about the house. How about we just step outside while you two explore, alright?”

“If you're sure.” 

Gilbert dropped back down, and Ulrich stepped ouside the library door. Feliciano followed him out with a glare and stopped outside the door.

“Why am I here?” Feliciano demanded. “If I died but I'm not dead, my friends are going to be scared and worried.”

“You need to know more about the house, and even I'm not sure if the man I'm trying to find is who I think it is until I can corner him and ask.” Ulrich gritted his teeth.

“Fine,” Feliciano snapped. “Who do you think it is, then?”

Ulrich braced his hands on his hips and leaned back, his expression dark. “I think that he's the one who put the spells on the mansion. There's a second set of spells on the house by someone else, but they're underneath the work of the first. Unfortunately, because I walked into the spells, I'm just as trapped as the rest of us, even if I don't have a physical body to trap – the spellwork binds souls, so they can't leave. It's the second set of spells that's trapping you, in your bodies, here.”

Feliciano's pulse jumped. “But – if spirits can't leave, how can we die?”

Ulrich looked away and started walking. 

Feliciano cursed at him and grabbed his arm, jerking him back around. “Tell me!”

“I told you, we're power,” Ulrich snapped. “Think! Every time you've gone through this still exists in here, Feli. Every. Time. Every instance of you that's set foot through those doors has never left.”

Feliciano swallowed hard. The monster he'd seen – the faces of his friends behind it.

Screaming.

“But – if we get out...” Feli whispered.

Ulrich shrugged. “Depends on how you get out – and if the monster finds you first. It's gaining power every time this happens. I think it plans to carry on until it can break the first set of spells from inside.”

Feliciano leaned on the wall by the stairs as they were halfway up the stairs. “Can it come here? Where we are now, into this – this dream.”

“There's two of us keeping it out, but it's not easy to do it.” Ulrich rubbed his face. “What England did has it occupied for now, but if it turned its attention on us here, I'm not sure I can keep it out. It hasn't decided it's important before now, and it hasn't realized the room I warded even existed before I could put up a shield keeping it ignorant.”

“You're keeping the room safe? Ludwig's safe space?” Feliciano startled. “How? How did I never find it!?”

“The wards are keyed to people who were inside the room when they went up, and the people introduced to it by them.” Ulrich smiled faintly. “It was an easy spell to place.”

Feliciano jogged a little to catch up to him, staring around the mansion again. “Why is this house spelled like it is anyways? England said that the spells are ceremonial magic – its the only magic you know, anyways, besides runes. How did it get here?”

“I thought Japan would've known him, but whenever I try to ask he doesn't know.” Ulrich sighed. “Gilbert has been more help. From what I've gathered, he must've been one of the men who went to England for the Meiji government, to learn western ways to pursue Japanese industrialization. My guess would be, that he learned some of the less... tasteful ceremonial magic.”

“Why would he have spells to trap souls?” Feliciano asked, although he didn't believe there was any 'tasteful' ceremonial magic, but this was neither the time or the place for that argument.

“What did you think the cells were for?”

Feliciano stared at him, then raised his eyebrows. “...I can think of quite a few reasons for them, Ulrich, I really don't know what you mean. I never studied it like you did.”

“Right, of course.” Ulrich laughed softly. “The most serene Republic... He used living beings in his magic. The trap would have ensured all he had to do was find the souls after to use them in his magic, even if the subjects killed themselves when he wasn't prepared for it or died for other reasons.”

Feliciano swallowed repeatedly. “Is the monster something he did that got out of control then?”

“I haven't been able to figure that out,” Ulrich said irritably. “It's complicated, because while there are many of the things, only one is a magic-user, which I'm not sure if that is because it's the only human soul or if its the only one that was –” Ulrich halted and his eyes went unfocused. “What? What is it doing? Shit!” 

“Ulrich? Sacro Romano, what's wrong?” Feliciano grabbed his shoulder and his fingers went through Ulrich's body. Feliciano stumbled and gasped. “Ulrich!”

Ulrich took a step back and shook his head, his face unfocused still. “I can't – he's shielding the house again, I have to – I can't stay and keep your body safe.” He was fading steadily, but his voice was clear. “Keep looking! You can find him yourself, ask – ask the last owner about it. You can do this, Gilbert's here with you...”

“How can I... Ulrich?” Feliciano stepped into the space where he'd been and his eyes filled with tears. He didn't hear a reply. He started to pace back and forth, rubbing his shoulders nervously. Would Ulrich be able to come back? How would Feli even know?

He didn't even know where he was.

Feliciano swallowed and started to rock in place, his arms wrapped around his chest as tears ran down his face. He was alive; Ulrich had assured him of that. This place was like a dream, except you couldn't use magic in a dream – but he had some level of control over his surroundings. He wasn't alone here.

The thought should've been comforting, except suddenly his breath stuck in his throat. Gilbert was here? Was he dead too? Gilbert had followed him downstairs, hadn't he? Had he been hurt? If he was dead – if he was dead...

What if Ulrich didn't get back in time? What if he was wrong? Would Feliciano even know if his body died? What did the others think had happened to him?

How would he even get back? 

“Hey, Feli!” Gilbert called. “Where's Ulrich?”

Feliciano turned to him and opened his mouth, but all that came out was a sob. He threw himself at Gilbert's chest and clung to him, unable to stop crying.

“Shit!” Gil swore. “What happened, what's the matter?”

Feliciano punched his shoulder and hiccoughed, sniffling harder. He spread his hand flat over Gilbert's chest and hummed half a spell, feeling his magic go through Gilbert's body. He found his spirit, healthy and well – and not attached to anything of flesh and blood. 

He thought to try it on himself, to compare, but he was terrified of the results – any results at all. He pressed into Gilbert's chest as if he could keep him safe by force of his grip alone.

He couldn't do this, not now. Not like this.

Why did Ulrich have to leave him here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abusive FACE family dynamics  
> No other content warnings for this chapter
> 
> Aand we're off into uncharted territory. Enjoy?


	26. Chapter 26

Alfred was carefully tracing a line on the parchment paper in charcoal when Mattie sat down beside him with a half-empty bowl of food. Alfred glanced at the bowl and Mattie both and shot him a small smile. 

“Midnight snack?” he joked.

“It's not for me,” Mattie said gently. “You haven't eaten since we got stuck here. You got Arthur to sleep by agreeing to do the spellwork for him. Can I ask you to eat a little for me?”

Alfred winced. He'd hit the point he didn't feel hunger anymore, but Mattie was right he was entering dangerous territory. “Yeah, sorry.” 

He pushed the bowl up above his work and took a small bite, before focusing immediately back on the work. After a minute Mattie reached over to steady the ruler for him as he carefully drew in the next line, focused as hard as he could on not letting his hand shake. Alfred sat back and closed his eyes for a moment, pushing down his frustration.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “I just...”

“I know.” Mattie smiled at him, as calm as he always was. “What do you need to do next?”

Alfred pulled over Arthur's grimoire and the rest of his notes. “That part. It's supposed to resemble this, but you can see the parts where he changed it to simplify – so you're taking it all the way across.” He glanced at the paper then picked up a protractor and measured on the older spell. “It needs to be... exactly forty-one and... four degrees from the line I just did.”

“Alright.” Mattie took the papers from him and gave him a pointed look. Alfred reached over to the bowl and took another bite, carefully watching Mattie work on the sigil. He couldn't decide if he was relieved the food was bland or not. It made it easy not to overeat, but it also meant he didn't like having it in his mouth at all. 

He had a couple candy bars in his coat. He hadn't told anyone about them, because if he lost them he'd have nothing if he panicked and needed the energy. Mattie understood why; so did a few others he was close to, but he didn't think the rest would understand. It was a stupid thing like Arthur's heroin, except worse, and half the time all he had to do to get in trouble was nothing at all. 

“You're off,” Alfred said. “The protractor shifted. You really need the point four, Mattie, it's...” He reached over and adjusted the ruler. “You can't hope it'll be right, you need it to...” He sighed and just pulled the paper back over, going back and remeasuring the position. He turned a shy smile at Mattie and made sure to take another bite before he went back to the measurements. “Sorry, I know you want to help but it's sensitive enough you can't really...”

He drew in the line and glanced at Mattie while he did it, worried he'd check the bowl – see how much he'd eaten or not – but he reminded himself that most people didn't do that, and Mattie knew better. It didn't exactly matter if he'd eaten or not – it took months for starvation to become more than a nuisance to a Nation, he'd done it before – but making up an excuse not to eat meant he wouldn't get back in the habit for months.

“Why did you bring me food now?” he complained. 

“You've told me to,” Mattie reminded him.

Alfred didn't comment. He had told Mattie to – to bring him food if he'd been forgetting when he was busy on something not vital but that required focus to do well. When he could still eat, but couldn't track how much he'd eaten. He took another bite and looked up the next line. That one was a loop, but when he started to put it in, he added a curl to the end, because it felt right under his hands, then carried on with the design.

“What did you add that for?” Mattie asked.

“Because it feels right,” Alfred glanced at the curl again in the larger design and nodded to himself. He had to decide on the angle for the next line – it wasn't in the base design Arthur had used, and while he'd made notes on where he'd put it, it had to match the rest of what Alfred had been doing. He bit his lip and remembered to eat again so he'd stop that. 

Sometime later, Mattie got up and took the bowl and walked away. Alfred had no idea if it was because he'd finished it or not. The food was heavy in his stomach, but he wasn't full enough that throwing up seemed like a good idea. He took a break anyways, stretching and glancing at the beds. The room was dark except for their space on the table, working in the light of Mattie's lantern. He checked his watch and startled a little to realize it was after midnight.

Everyone else was in bed. Ludwig hadn't moved from his position by Feliciano; Gilbert had finally curled up to sleep behind him. China and Russia were at the end of the room, where they had retreated after a brief but ultimately fruitless excitement about Feliciano's state being perhaps less hopeless than expected. François had curled up around Arthur's back, across from Japan. 

There was movement in the corner of his eye by the kitchen and Alfred turned to look. He had to turn further than expected: the movement wasn't Mattie, in the kitchen, but a transparent ghost facing the wall and drawing something on it he could't make out. Alfred squinted at the figure skeptically.

“What is it?” Mattie asked. 

“There's a ghost by the wall,” Alfred said. “I think... it might be the same one I saw before.”

“You've got your Sight on?” Mattie startled. “I thought you'd be overwhelmed again.”

“That's the weird part,” Alfred complained. “I've only ever seen two ghosts in this house – one upstairs and really young, and the other seems to be hovering around us a lot and doing things. He's much weaker than the girl – I've never really seen him clearly.” 

Mattie had come back with a bowl of blueberries. Alfred immediately grabbed a small handful and ate them, relieved by the strong taste after the blandness he'd had before. He sucked his teeth clean and pulled over a second page to copy the sigil the second time. Mattie started to move the bowl of blueberries away and Alfred grabbed it and put it back above the paper where he could reach but not see inside. 

Mattie quickly silenced a surprised noise. “Okay, okay. I'll get my own bowl.”

“Good.” Alfred shot him a smile. “You'll stay up with me, right?”

“Until you're done, promise.”

Alfred relaxed a little, glancing back towards the spirit nervously. “Thanks.”

IIII

Timo looked up the tree again and flashed a light over the branches, trying to figure out how suitable it would be as a perch. It was the tallest tree in the area, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd have the view he hoped. He glanced back at Berwald and hung up the flashlight.

“Lift me to the bottom branch?” he asked softly.

Berwald picked him up and boosted him up to where he could haul himself over the lowest branch. Timo turned and caught his hair before he walked away.

“Are you sure this is your best idea?” he asked.

“What else do you suggest?” Denmark leaned on his halberd a few feet away and looked deeply amused. “You're the best shot here and from what we've heard your vantage will help a lot.”

“I know,” Timo complained and pushed himself up to a sitting position over the branch. “Just – are you really sure it's not able to climb trees?”

“We will be talking to you,” Berwald reminded him. He touched the walkie-talkie Timo wore on his hip, and Timo nodded back tiredly. “You will be safe.”

Timo got to his feet on the branch and started up the tree, careful not to let his rifle catch on anything as he ascended the truck. It didn't really matter if the creature could climb trees or not in the end – the vantage was needed, and he was the best shot they had outside – and inside – for it. 

Below him, Denmark, Norway, and Berwald went off to look for more clocks. Norway could sense both the clocks and the monsters, and Denmark had his halberd. Berwald had his gun and his longsword, and the height and reach to ensure his own safety. Assuming they were correct, the walkie-talkies should likely be less vulnerable to interference than their cell phones.

Timo had his sniping rifle and a night vision scope and a bandolier with 60 bullets. He couldn't imagine needing that much, but they didn't have any idea what they were up against. He was supposed to get the lay of the land and find and snipe the monsters he found. If Berwald found them first, it was his job to get them into position for Timo to snipe them – if he wasn't busy with something else. 

The third time he stopped to scan the area he found himself content with the height, angle and stability available and got himself set up in the branches. He had a clear view of the house and the windows along the north face, but first he turned to find Berwald and the other Nordics again. 

Instead, he found something not human in the direction he knew they had gone. He fumbled out the walkie-talkie and turned it on with shaking hands. “Berwald! Are you there?”

The handset crackled and responded. “What is it?”

Timo felt a rush of relief and exhaled hard. He swallowed and replied. “There's something not-human, 60 metres north-northeast of my perch.”

The handset was silent for a long stretch, then came alive again. “Found it. Thank you.”

Timo focused on the spot. He didn't have a shot – not a sure one – and a minute later the figure engaged with something. He saw a flash of steel and a minute after a flash of green light and the creature disappeared. Timo closed his eyes and disengaged, turning to scan the rest of the forest, working his way around the compass from where he'd started. He reported a few possible sightings to Berwald as he went, but most were well outside their range. Berwald would pass the message on to Austria, who would tell the people in the relevant regions, but as he'd expected he wouldn't have all that much to do. 

When he came back around to the house, Timo indulged a little curiosity to study the house through the windows he could see through. The mansion itself looked very together and tidy. The bottom floor had misted windows at the front, and a couple of divided light at the back, looking in on tatami flooring and cushioned window seats. As he went up, the rooms became bedrooms, a pale recreation room, and another bedroom at the top.There was one window peeking out through the roof, but it was blacked out. 

Dismissing it, Timo looked back at the annexe and made a perplexed noise. Contrasting with the impeccable tidiness of the front rooms, the annexe had heavily deteriorated inside. While he knew he had limited detail given the nature of a night scope, there was a visible difference between the state of the building in front and behind. There was a lot more windows. Moss had grown on the sills, and the walls were coarse with peeled paint outside and buckled and curled wallpaper inside. More importantly, there was no bars on the windows and two that he could see had broken dividers.

There was another misted window at the back of the house; the rest along the bottom floor looked onto a hallway, including a staircase upstairs. The floorboards were broken in a few places and, by the staircase, he saw something dark move along the floor. 

Timo blinked and moved back to rub at his eyes, not sure if he was seeing things or not. He looked again and the dark spot had disappeared. He looked up and down the hallway for it, and saw nothing. Checking upstairs, he also found nothing. The hallway ended and the last window by the house was blacked out as well. The east end appeared to be a sitting room, with a wide staircase leading down to the far wall. Timo pulled out the walkie talkie again.

“Berwald, who was going to the east?” he asked.

“Ungern and Polen. They're going to see the annexe, but coming from the south.”

“Ask them to report back what the east wall of the annexe looks like. It might be a main entryway.” He studied the grounds behind that wall and nodded slowly. It looked like it used to be a kind of garden, or had been intended to be a manicured space for socializing. There was a lot of clear space that might accompany a large entryway.

And a large entry would make for an easier exit to access and control.

IIII

“See? I told you, it's really easy to climb!” Feliks announced. They had reached the wall he'd found before he went to get Toris for backup. The wall was brick and mortar, although much had been worn away by ivy. A few bricks had fallen out of place, both making it easier to climb and more likely to collapse under any weight. 

“I still don't think it's a good idea,” Toris objected. “We don't even know what's on the other side.”

“That's the point of going,” Feliks said firmly. “C'mon, give me a boost up. I'll go first.”

“We should wait for Vengrija to catch up,” Toris said. “She's coming with Lichtensteinas, she's not that far back – Feliks, stop!”

Feliks would've carried on up the wall, except that Toris had backed up his protest by grabbing him off the wall. Feliks let go quickly and squirmed out of his grip. 

“Dammit, I was fine!” he cried. “When has waiting ever helped anyone?” Toris didn't answer. Feliks stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend and then looked over his shoulder and waved happily. “Oh, hi Erszébet! Now can we go Toris?”

“Feliks...” Toris exhaled loudly and covered his eyes.

“What did you do?” Erszébet asked, a smile spreading across her face.

“Nothing!” Feliks insisted. “I was trying to look at the garden, isn't the ivy nice? It's doing great still, isn't it! How are we all doing?”

“Erika will take a look, then if doesn't look like you'll be trapped inside, you can go in and see if you can find the way into the annexe from the second basement they found.”

Feliks tapped his foot on the ground and studied his nails. He'd been doing nail polish before they had to come here and while it was still intact he hadn't done anything that might damage it quite yet. Toris checked his sword again and gave Feliks a bit of a jealous look. Feliks smiled back at him and lazily spun his spear in his hands.

“Yeah, hon?” Feliks said pleasantly. 

“Nothing,” Toris said. He smiled tiredly and folded his hands in front of himself, his chin going up as he settled into attentive waiting. Feliks bit his lip not to go over and tug on his shirt and kiss him, knowing now was not the time – no matter how attractive he looked.

“I... think it's okay,” Erika said hesitantly. “There's a lot of magic, but it's not the same spells as there is on the mansion. It's hard to tell; the mansion has a lot more layers.”

“What kind of magic?” Toris asked. 

“There's a spirit ward, I think, but it only applies to spirits – not people. Then there's.. someone did a lot of work and it's leftover. Not a lot of it is in good shape. I couldn't tell you what it was for, because they're all different things.”

“Is there anything on the wall and the door going inside here?” Feliks asked firmly.

“No,” Erika said. “I mean, I think there used to be, but it looks like it's spent.”

“Alright.” Feliks stepped quickly up to the wall, only for Toris to grab his shoulder. “Now what!?”

“Let me lift you to the top,” Toris said. “The wall will be less likely to come down if I do, alright?”

Feliks smiled and laughed. “Alright!” He stepped into Toris' cupped hands and accepted the boost to the top of the wall and vaulted over. He landed hard on the sand on the far side, looking around and stepping over to the half-open door.

“Please wait,” Toris called. “Natalya? Would you help me over?”

Feliks sighed and stopped by the door to tap his foot impatiently on the sand. He heard a scuttling sound behind him, but when he jumped and turned to look, the door was as it had been before – perhaps open a crack, but too far closed to let anything in or out. Anything that made that much noise scurrying back and forth couldn't possibly fit through the crack between door and jamb.

“What is it?” Toris landed heavily and caught himself with one hand in the sand. “You jumped.”

“I think there's an animal inside,” Feliks laughed wryly. “I thought I heard something scurrying around, that's all, but the door's still shut so it can wait for you to go first, yeah?”

“Not outside?” Toris looked around and Feliks did the same, shrugging it off as of no concern yet again: the little garden was maybe fifteen feet square. The brick wall fenced it in between the mansion to the west and another addition to the annexe to the east. The sand inside the walls had once been a zen kind of garden, but weeds had moved in around all the rocks. One corner was entirely overtaken by a good sized bush, and the walls were thick with ivy.

“Nah, it was nails on flooring not sand.” Feliks clarified. 

He backed away from the door and Toris bluntly kicked it in. It slammed into the wall and stuck fast, revealing a dim hallway stretching the width of the house a little to their left, and another hallway off to their right. Toris flipped on a flashlight and stepped inside, shining it to the right and left.

“Feliks!” Erszébet called. “Finnország wants us to check out the east wall of the house. He thinks there's a large entryway there. Can you meet us there?”

“Yeah, sure thing!” Feliks shouted back. “We'll call you if there's a problem!”

“If you need cover, go to the north side of the house, okay? Finnország's up a tree there and can see into the house.”

“Feliks, the hallways are clear.” Toris reported.

“We'll see you soon!” Feliks shouted back to Erszébet, then stepped inside after Toris. “What's here?”

“Be careful,” Toris said firmly. He kept his voice low. “There's holes in the floor.”

“There's a new hole in the fucking wall,” Feliks said and laughed. “You put the door handle through the plaster!”

“Please keep your voice down.” Toris said and groaned. “This isn't the place to joke.”

Feliks shrugged and looked around as well. The hallways were dark and smelled like the outdoors: rotting wood and moss. “This place is a dump.”

“The others said they couldn't damage the house.” Toris turned and pulled the door free from the wall and eyed the hole. “Especially not outside walls.”

“Well, if this is just the annexe, then maybe that's not the case here.” Feliks turned and eyed the wall behind him. “I wonder...” He tossed his spear to his left hand and punched through the back wall. His fist breached the wall like paper and went through. He pulled his hand back with a confused noise. “Huh! There's only one layer.”

“Feliks!” Toris snapped. “What the Hell are you doing, what if you hit the spells and they bit back!? Leave that to the magic-users!”

“Calm down!” Feliks retrieved his hand and crouched to put his eye to the hole he'd made. “Hey, can I see the flashlight?”

Toris grabbed him hard by the back of his shirt and jerked him to his feet instead. “RUN!”

Feliks stumbled and cursed, taking off behind Toris before he glanced over his shoulder to see what was wrong. 

The floor behind them was covered in surging black shadows. Feliks sped up and reached the far corner a few strides behind Toris. He saw the stairs and didn't think, rushing up them and looking around for Toris.

He wasn't there. 

Two of the black shadows had followed him up the stairs. Feliks slashed at them with the short blade of his spear. He cut one, then stabbed the other as the creature jerked back. There was a flash of many legs and folded carapace, like an armoured bug the size of a small dog. The one he'd pinned to the floor jerked in place, not dying but not escaping either. Feliks stomped on its head and jerked the spear free in the same movement, crushing it to the floor. The creature vanished under his foot and the second ran away back down the stairs.

Feliks started to relax. Glass shattered behind him, and a rifle shot rang through the house. He rammed his back against the railing and looked up and down the hallway. He couldn't see anything: no Toris, no monster, no shadows on the floor. The cracked pane of glass was up an upper corner of the window just to his left. He cursed and ran back downstairs.

His phone chirped at him, and Feliks jerked it open.

It was a text from Finland. 'Liet's downstairs, by the east wall. You need someone to watch your back.'

Feliks shoved it back in his pocket and kept running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of food and disordered eating.  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.


	27. Chapter 27

Feliks reached the east wall of the annexe and turned the corner to find Toris standing on the bottom of a broad staircase. He was keeping the small hoard of black creatures at bay with sweeps of his longsword, picking them off one by one with quick cuts through the space that must be their heads. There was a large hole in the floor not two feet away and Feliks took his spear like a broom and swept half the clustered monsters into the black hole. 

“Feliks!” Toris gasped. He dispatched the last two and jumped down the stairs to crush him into his chest. “Why weren't you behind me? I was so scared! Where did you go?”

“Upstairs,” Feliks grabbed him back and pressed into his body. “I thought – it was stupid.”

“Who fired? Do you know?”

“I think Finlandia saved my ass. He texted me I needed someone to watch my back and told me where to find you. The broken window was damn high though!”

“So the monster's in here as well,” Toris said tiredly. “At least we know now.” He stepped towards the hole, then retreated back to the stairs and walked on one of the struts still intact across the hole. Feliks cursed at him, but didn't object as he shone the flashlight down the hole. “It looks like a room,” he said. “Feliks, go stand by the front wall and see what else you can see from there.”

Feliks went and turned back as well with a frown. “It's a room, yeah, but really small. Maybe the servants' quarters? There's a bed and a little dresser and a door.”

“It's deeper than usual.” Toris took another step forward and Feliks hissed at him. Toris shot him a calm smile. “I'm fine Feliks, my balance is okay.”

“Hey, Toris...” Feliks frowned. “Can you see those things down there anymore?”

Toris' smile dropped off his face and he scanned what they could see of the floor. “Maybe they hid under the bed...?” he said warily.

“Not gonna bet on it,” Feliks grumbled. He looked across the entryway to the other hallway and the doors there, then back the way he'd come. “C'mon, let's stick close. Do you want to look upstairs?”

“Might as well start there, yeah.” Toris turned off the flashlight. “Come over here and we'll go upstairs.”

Feliks agreed and joined him on the stairs before turning and pulling out his phone. He took a photo of the front entry to text to Erszébet, encompassing the double doors and the hole in the floor in front of the left side. He hit send and jammed it into his pocket, following Toris the rest of the way upstairs.

IIII

In spite of his reservations, Feliciano clung to Gilbert's arm as he looked around the rest of the house. He couldn't talk as it was; he didn't think Gilbert would believe him if he tried to explain what had happened to Ulrich. If he had, Feli might have had to explain how they'd gotten here, and that could lead to him having to tell Gilbert he was dead. Likely dead. 

Probably dead.

If he didn't tell him, it wouldn't have to be real, so Feliciano picked locks and followed him through the rooms upstairs while Gilbert assured him Japan was reading several of the books in the library. When they got up to the attic room, Feliciano cautiously looked behind the bookcase, just to be sure. He breathed a sigh of relief to see no sign of the mochi, only the latch for the fifth floor.

“What are you looking at?” Gilbert asked. 

Feliciano jumped and turned to smile back at him. “I thought I saw something move,” he signed.

“Is there anything?” Gilbert came over and looked, making a curious noise when he saw the latch. He moved the bookcase out of the way. “What's that for? It doesn't look like one you could pick, does it?”

Feliciano shook his head and pushed Gilbert's shoulder back towards the door.

“Okay, okay!” Gilbert laughed and got up, offering Feliciano his arm with a bow. “If it pleases you, my lord.”

Feliciano gave him a dirty look, fighting a smile, and clung to his arm happily, relieved to have something solid under his hands. Gilbert said nothing about the grip that would've left bruises in the real world. He was used to Feliciano clinging to him for comfort – painfully hard or not.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Glbert looked around and then checked his watch. “Good grief, I told him to meet us here in an hour. Where the Hell is he?”

Feliciano tugged on Gilbert's arm and signed “Did you check the library yet?”

Gilbert made a 'no' noise and started down the hallway to the room again. He tried the door and struggled with it in confusion. “Why's it locked? It wasn't before.”

Feli swallowed and picked it for him, his hands shaking as he tried. He pulled the door open and checked the lock. It was set to lock behind them, now. He quickly corrected it and started into the room after Gilbert, only to walk into his back.

“Why is it cold?” Gilbert said softly. “I...”

Feliciano grabbed the back of his shirt. This was a dream. It was supposed to be a dream. The monster couldn't get here. 

So why was it cold? 

Gilbert tried to go first, but Feliciano squeezed past him to study the room without him in the way. He couldn't see Japan, only the top of the monster's grey head. Feliciano swallowed his panic and tried to shout. It wasn't a word, but it was noise and the monster turned his way.

“Itaria, run!” Japan shouted.

The monster turned away again. Feli couldn't see what it did, but he heard – almost felt – something slam into the wall; into, and maybe through. The monster vanished immediately after. Feliciano ran to the back of the library, to the aisle to see, and stopped as he rounded the end of the shelves. 

The wall had broken, yes; broken, and stained with blood. Japan was slumped at the base of the wall, the buttons on his shirt ripped open as blood ran down his neck from the back of his head. Feliciano swallowed his gasps and dropped to his knees by his side, reaching for his hand to try and heal him. He touched Japan's skin and recoiled with a cry.

“Feli? Shit!” Gilbert dropped to his knees beside him. “Fuck, what the Hell was that? Feli, what's wrong?”

Feliciano staggered to his feet and backed away, terrified at the thought of touching Japan's body again. Gilbert checked Kiku's neck for a pulse and cursed softly, standing up and walking over to hug Feliciano. 

“Shit that thing was strong,” Gilbert said. “It'll be okay Feli, alright? He's not – we can't die like that, remember?”

Feliciano buried his face in Gilbert's neck, needing to feel the reassurance of his warmth and his spirit under his fingers. He had a better idea of what Ulrich had meant now, and it hurt. It hurt so much. Gilbert was perhaps dead, but his spirit was still here, in front of him, still okay. He still had something.

Japan's was just... gone.

Gilbert eventually walked them away from the body, taking Feli back to the table in the library and motioning for him to take a seat. Feliciano sniffled and looked over the books and papers on the table, hoping vainly he might find his journal and be able to go back. He wasn't very surprised not to find anything of use. 

Perhaps part of him had hoped that Ulrich would come back before anything could go wrong, but now – now he knew it wouldn't make any difference at all. There was nowhere in the house that could be safe ever again. 

“Feli,” Gilbert said softly. “Are you okay?”

Feliciano looked up at him, cautious.

“What happened? You've been on edge since we got in here.”

Feli nodded tiredly and signed, “I know.” He tried to think of how to explain, and how to translate it into sign so he could understand. He wished he could write it out, but that would take even more time – time for him to write it, and time for Gilbert to read it. 

Finally, he gave up on explaining any details. “We need to look for someone specific,” Feli signed. “I think I know where he's likely to be. We should go there, then if he's not there it'll be in the basement. He should be able to help us.”

“Alright.” Gilbert nodded soberly to him and got up to offer Feliciano his hand. “Let's go. You can fill me in on more when you figure out how to say it.”

Feliciano took his hand and hugged him tightly for a second, reassured by his solidity. He clung to Gilbert's arm again as they went, directing him to go back around the staircase. As they went, Feli tapped his shoulder and explained, “I've been in here before. I'm sorry I didn't warn you, but I – I thought we would be safe this time. The monster really can kill us for good. We can't help Japan.”

“Right,” Gilbert squeezed his hand. “We'll get out anyways. Promise.”

Feliciano smiled and nodded at him, trying not to think as he let Gilbert's confidence carry him forward.

IIII

Ivan woke to tingling pain in his fingers and toes. He pushed himself up with a curse and began to rub feeling back into the limbs, mumbling unhappily as the tingling retreated once he'd gotten up. A cool breeze brushed past his ear and he straightened his clothes, knowing he would not be able to return to sleep again. He got out of bed and walked confidently across the room to the bathrooms. 

The electric light was out, and nobody sat at the tables; Canada and America had gone to sleep. He was alone in the bathrooms as he washed his face, not having bothered with the lights. When he looked up into the mirror, he saw behind him the figure of General Winter in the dim light coming through the windows. 

“What is it?” Ivan asked. 

Winter's scowl deepened, then he vanished. Ivan sighed heavily and walked back out into the main room, checking the table for his sword. He had no idea if Alfred had done as Arthur had promised, and it didn't matter at this point. He picked up his sword and belted it on, then went to shake Yao by the shoulder. The smaller Nation looked up at him crossly.

“What is it?” Yao snapped.

“I am going now, whether you come or not.” Ivan stood up. “Will you?”

“What – why – oh fine. Let me wash my face.”

“You may.” Ivan walked to stand by folded ladder down. Yao walked quickly into the bathroom, then came out again in a minute, his face wet and sword on. Ivan dropped the stairs and went out of the closet with a vague sense of unease. It was unnatural not to have someone posted as sentry, but now was not the time to wake someone and fix it, so he simply closed the trap door again, hoping that would be enough. They would waste precious time, and the cold nipping at his fingers again told him that was not acceptable to General Winter. 

“What was the hurry for anyways?” Yao asked, his voice barely audible. 

“There is something I need to see.”

Yao muttered something disparaging in Chinese, but didn't ask again. They reached the annexe ladder and Ivan went down first, looking up the lighted hallway and blinking at the unexpected light. Overheard, he could see the remnants of the shattered bulb and, on a whim, unscrewed it and threw the remains into the corner.

“What was that for?” Yao asked. 

Ivan shrugged. “If Germaniya can get us a new one, we can more easily replace it now.”

“Is that at all important?”

“Nyet.” Ivan started up the hallway and stepped into the side room to look it over. It was bare except for the table, not even papers there. Yao passed him and began to check the walls, but Ivan could already tell this was not where he was supposed to be. When Yao opened the circuitbox on the wall, Ivan sighed.

“Are you done, Kitay?” he asked.

“What are you so impatient about?”

“This is not the room we have been chased from many times. I do not wish to waste time here.”

China took the hint and walked out into the far rooms. Ivan followed him in and looked over the papers on the table as China started to walk around the rest of the room. Ivan paid him no mind until there was a sudden chill over the back of his neck. Ivan looked up from the building plans and stared at China as he studied the bookcase further down the wall from the door. Ivan looked around the room again and noticed that it was the only bookcase he could see pressed to a wall. 

“I do not see anything, or any sign of a trigger.” China turned and put his hands on his hips. “What do you have there?”

“They are plans for the building and the annexe. They are quite interesting.”

“Interesting how?” China walked over and scanned a few. “That doesn't make sense?”

“Yes?” Ivan asked. He was already looking over the papers, trying to remember which he'd been studying before Winter got his attention. 

“Is this the annexe plans? There's no sign of what the room is in the middle of the first floor, it's just blank, as if there's not supposed to be a floor at all. Why would they do that?”

Ivan reached for it when his fingers ached from cold again and he closed his hand, shrugging and trying to rub feeling into it again. “I do not know. Do you wish to go see the study? I will stay here in case the creature comes back.”

“Fine.” China dropped the paper and stalked off. Ivan picked it up and set it down in the small pile he had been making of maps that he felt should be studied further. As he did so, however, there was a strong cold breeze from behind his back and Ivan shivered, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets as he followed the breeze before Winter could get more insistent. 

The breeze took him to the bookcase in the corner. The air tasted bittersweet, of ice and crisp morning sunshine, and the smell grew stronger as he ran his hands along the books until he found one that hurt. He tried to pull it out and felt the catch as it tried to open and stopped. The air froze around him, his skin prickling in the cold as the door was forced open far enough for him to pass through. 

He went, and the bookcase slammed shut behind him, leaving him in darkness.

“Winter...” Ivan muttered. “Why am I here?”

The air was still intensely crisp in his mouth, and he blinked tears out of his eyes at the bitter cold. Ahead of him, there was a glitter as faint blue-green lights flickered, faded and spread out before him. Ivan walked until his foot ran into something, then identified it as a step. 

Ivan exhaled in resignation and started to climb.

IIII

Searching the annexe went well for about a half hour, until Feliks opened a cabinet and was thrown across the room. Toris caught him before he could hit the wall, but it wasn't the only trap. They had almost finished the circuit of the upstairs when they walked past a closet and the door slammed open as they passed. Toris tried to push Feliks out of the way, only for the door to swing shut immediately and bite down on Toris' arm. 

“TORIS!” Feliks grabbed the door and pried it open before it could try to close more. It was like trying to stop a truck with his bare hands. He braced his foot on the wall and leaned into the door, slowly forcing it open.

The moment Toris could, he jerked his arm free and jumped away. Feliks shoved the door hard and let go, tumbling to the ground as the door slammed shut. They both heard a lock click into place and stayed, panting on the floor as they assessed what had just happened.

“This place is trying to kill us,” Feliks said.

“I think we should wait for someone with magic to come through here first.” Toris flexed his hand and twisted his wrist in a circle. Feliks looked over and took hold of his wrist to try and get a better look at the damage. “It's fine, Feliks, I'm just bruised.”

It did not look just bruised. Toris could still move his wrist, but Feliks had seen Toris fighting with a broken arm before. He thought there might be split skin, but they'd have to look at it in better light than they had inside the house.

“Let's go try and get out then,” Feliks suggested firmly. “We can always come back later.”

“Alright.” Toris got to his feet and, as Feliks had thought, he was holding his arm carefully close to his body. Feliks followed suit and led the way back to the stairs at the front of the house and trotted down to study their options.

“How much do you want to bet the front door is trapped?” Feliks grumbled. 

Toris shrugged and stepped past him to try the door handle. Feliks tensed, ready to jump to his aid, but nothing happened. The door clicked against a lock, but, when Toris searched for the way to unlock it, instead he found a keyhole.

“What on earth is that?” Toris grumbled.

“It's fucking English is what it is.” Feliks groaned and wandered over to the window. “This guy was a fucking jerk. Did he learn from Arthur how to be an asshole? It really seems like it.” When he tried the window, the lock flipped and the pane slid up smoothly. “Hey, look! Ta da!”

“It was open?” Erszébet came over to the window, surprised. “What did you find?”

“It's going to be trapped.” Toris said. He stopped trying the door and walked over his expression dubious. “It's only a question of what.”

Feliks sighed heavily. “Erika! Is the window trapped!?”

Erika blinked and shook herself, walking away from the front doors to look over the window. “I... I don't know. There's a spell on it, yes, and it's been... partially triggered, I suspect by you opening it, but it's waiting for... something.”

Feliks rolled his eyes and pushed both hands up against the edge of the windowframe. “So go quick, Toris. You're already hurt.”

“I'm not going to leave you in here!”

“Toris, I'm right here,” Erszébet said. “If you're hurt, you should get it seen in case there's anything else wrong. I'll keep an eye on Feliks for you.”

Toris nodded casually and took several steps back. Feliks moved as far out of the way as he could while still braced against the window. Toris took a short run and dove out the window into a roll.

The window snapped shut like a vise. Feliks stumbled and his face slammed into the windowpane. He screamed and dropped to his knees, but he did not jerk on his hands. He did not. He knew better. 

The window over him shattered and sprayed him with glass and fragments of wood as someone reached down and cupped his face. “Feliks! Feliks, look at me dammit! Are you okay?”

“Fine, I'm fine,” he breathed. He kept his eyes focused on Erszébet's belt and did not look anywhere else. He didn't want to see the damage. His hands were still stuck and that was a very good thing. He reminded himself of it over and over as he shivered in pain and gagged, his arms shaking uncontrollably.

There was a scuttling sound somewhere behind him. Feliks looked up and down the hallway and whimpered. 

“Shit,” Erszébet's hands retreated. “Toris, gimme his spear. Erika, I need –”

“I got it,” Erika said quickly. 

She said a few rapid words in Latin and Feliks saw a glassy wall spring up between him and the hallways. Seconds later, the black shadows raced into the wall and scrambled frantically at the walls, their underbellies lit by the swirling white lights. Feliks laughed at them until one got purchase on the wall and raced for the top.

“ERIKA!” Feliks shrieked.

“Be quiet!”

“I've got it,” Erszébet assured him, and Feliks tucked his legs closer to the wall, closing his eyes as he hoped they'd get a handle on it soon. When the creature dropped from the top of the wall, she batted it into the wall with the end of the spear like it was a ball. It hit the white wall and sizzled, then vanished. 

Feliks stared at it. “Erika, please tell me I won't sizzle if I touch the wall.”

“You can't reach it,” Erika said simply. She shifted to speaking Old German and all of a sudden the pain in Feliks hands tripled – but he could pull them free. He cupped his hands to his chest seconds before the window snapped shut with a crunch of wood. Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him through. There was an explosion of shattering glass, followed by another shout and then Feliks was face-down in the dirt and Toris was apologizing, over and over again, in his ear.

“Ow,” Feliks mumbled. “What happened?”

“The window exploded,” Erszébet said simply. “Erika suggests we don't try that again. The top pane repaired itself after trying to shoot glass at everyone, so it will happen again.”

“The bottom one didn't?”

“No, probably because I broke it from outside.” She crouched beside him and Feliks smiled up at her tiredly. He glanced down long enough to see Erika was wrapping his hands in gauze and writing something in oil each time she did another turn around. He looked away quickly, not wanting to see the source of that much pain. He felt almost drunk each time it crossed his mind again.

“So we could break all the windows from outside fine?”

Erszébet frowned and got up and walked away quickly. Erika started on his left hand with a sigh and gave him a tired look. 

“I'm not very good at healing spells,” she apologized. “You're going to be a few hours still healing, but at least we know more about inside.”

“Hey, don't feel bad.” Feliks laughed. “I still have my fingers. That's fucking fantastic. They're not squished anymore, too, which makes it even better, you know?”

There was the sound of breaking glass, followed by another furious curse, then more broken glass. Feliks glanced back towards the house and watched as Erszébet crashed her halberd into the window yet again. The glass and wood shattered, fell, and reformed in the next minute all the same. She finally gave up and kicked the side of the house furiously. 

“So that won't work,” Toris said softly. “I'll let the others know.”

Feliks glared at the house, then at his wrapped hand. He ground his teeth and relaxed against Toris, wanting to curl up and stay on the ground for a while – long enough that, when they were ready to take the place down, he'd be part of it.

Nothing got away with trying to crush him. Didn't matter what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for character death  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	28. Chapter 28

Lovino stroked Antonio's hair out of his face again and hummed the song keeping them hidden in the corner. He didn't have Feliciano's skill, but he could damn well keep people walking if they looked his way. He wasn't singing, because his voice might break again and that ruined the spell, but the humming had put Antonio to sleep.

Neither of them had had the energy to get up and move. They didn't have anywhere else to go. His back was to a wall, and, eventually, they'd get their strength back and come up with something but until then... 

Lovino shivered and looked around the dark library, wishing he had some kind of fucking light. He started singing in Latin again, running his fingers through Antonio's coarse black hair. He closed his eyes against the dark, and heard the door at the far end of the library open and close. Lovino steadied his voice and focused on the spell – the glamour that nothing was out of place.

His eyes were shut, but he heard when the person slowed at the end of the aisle. A moment later, they walked on. His voice stayed even, and the person opened and shut the door at the other end.

The footsteps came back to the aisle, and Lovino opened his eyes. His voice broke and he dropped the song. 

“What do you want?” he snarled.

England scowled back at him and came down the aisle. He didn't look like things had gone well for him in the past few hours: his shirt was ripped and stained, his hair tangled like he'd been pulling on it and his face was red. His bag was pulled around to his front and from it he pulled a red journal. 

“You're alive again?” England said.

“No thanks to you,” Lovino snapped.

“How?”

“How the Hell should I know? I was dead!” He felt Antonio wake under his hands, but pressed down on his head, trying to keep England from noticing. “What do you want?”

“Wake him up.”

“Fuck you to Hell and back,” Lovino snarled, but Antonio sat up anyways. Lovino grabbed his shirt and glared at England, daring him to try and hurt him again.

“What is it?” Antonio asked.

“Why didn't you warn me the monster could use magic?”

“You left abruptly.”

England stepped forward and backhanded Antonio across the face. “I could've saved them!”

“Well fuck you, you still failed,” Lovino snapped. “Why don't you do something you can't fail at?”

England bristled, but didn't move to hit him. “Get up. Both of you.”

Lovino got up and picked up Antonio's axe, then handed it to him and stood with his back pressed into his chest, so England had to go through him to hit Antonio again.

England shoved the book into his hands. “Take it.”

Lovino took it, leaning back more as his boyfriend wrapped an arm around his chest. England wasn't looking at him; he was staring over his shoulder, and Antonio's grip on his stomach started to shake.

“Fucking talk to me!” Lovino screamed.

England jumped and glared at him. “Lords! Would you like to scream louder, in case everyone didn't hear you already?”

“If you'd fucking focus we wouldn't be wasting our fucking time! You want the monster to show up before you get anything right you son of a bitch?”

“Would you bloody well stop swearing?”

“Shut up and listen to your fucking self!”

England snapped his hand out, and Lovino flinched reflexively. Something tugged inside him, and England's eyes went distant.

“Say it,” he ordered. “The spell's charged.”

“I hope the monster guts you,” Lovino growled.

Antonio put his hand on the journal and said the words to activate the spell. Lovino's chest felt like he'd been hit by a cannonball, all his breath forced out at once before he was slammed into the ground. He collapsed to the floor, struggling to force air back into his body for the second time in only a few hours. Behind him, Antonio had fallen and was gagging on air as well, but Lovino could tell it was different: he was sobbing and, a few seconds later, had slammed into the wall and slid down it. It was hard to tell anything else, but as breathing got easier again, Lovino could hear others talking and coming closer.

He thought once he could breathe he should be able to get up, but when he tried his arms had no strength. The room was black.

“Get a flashlight!” someone yelled, then “It's them! They're back! It's Spain and Romano!”

Lovino tried to get up again, struggling with a body that felt weak as an infant's. Abruptly he realized what England had done and started cursing breathlessly, coughing every other word until someone touched his shoulder. 

“Here, you need to drink. Can you sit up?”

Lovino started to snap at them, then recognized it was François talking and subsided. “No,” he said hoarsely. “Where's Tonino?”

“Gilbert's with him. C'mere.” François pulled him into his arms and gave him water until Lovino's throat didn't feel like ten thousand armies had ridden down it. He could touch the bottle by the end and he was starting to see flashes of light, although no details yet. “What happened?”

“How's Tonino?” Lovino muttered.

“He's better. Let me help you.” François lifted him and, before Lovino could object, set him down next to someone's warm body. “Anton, here's your love. See?”

“Lovito?” Antonio said softly. Hands eplored his face and shoulders and then drew him up against a chest he recognized the smell and feel of. Lovino pressed his head over Antonio's heart and exhaled tiredly. “Lovito, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Lovino grumbled. “Just tired.”

“What happened?” Gilbert asked. “Can you explain?”

Antonio swallowed beneath him. “We got stuck. Lovino... his heart stopped. I tried to activate the spell to come back, but – it wouldn't work. Arthur – the past Arthur – he found us, but he didn't – didn't help. Lovino woke up maybe a half hour later... I can't remember exactly. We waited for... something to change.” His hand began to run through Lovino's hair over and over again, short, fitful movements. “Arthur eventually came back, after – I assume after someone died. He sent us back.”

“The bastard fucking tied the spell to me,” Lovino growled. “I can't see.”

Antonio's hands dug into his back. “I thought he'd have tied it to me. I'm sorry, I should've asked him to...”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Alfred said. “He knew you'd panic as soon as you got back. How bad is it?”

Lovino grumbled, but answered. “I can see lights now, and I don't feel like I can't move anymore.”

“Was your whole vision dark to start?”

“Yeah?” Lovino turned to try and find him, and the light was more clear, now. “It's still getting better.”

“You should be fine after you both sleep, then.” Alfred sounded disgustingly together, but Lovino would let him get away with it. “That's good! Maybe this means Feli will wake up soon.”

Lovino's heart jumped into his throat. “Feli? What the fuck happened to him? Where is he?”

“Peace, Lovino, we can take you there.” François touched his shoulder and Lovino had a frantic moment of trying not to leave Antonio while needing to see his brother. He kissed Antonio on the cheek and pulled himself up François' arm after. 

With François' arm around his chest, Lovino made it over to the beds and found his brother's hand. He stroked a hand through his hair and tugged fitfully on his shirt, smelling the flowery cologne and sweat and spice that always surrounded him. He lay down next to him and hoped, when Gilbert got Antonio to bed, they'd lie down nearby because as much as he loved Antonio, he wouldn't die without him.

He'd never really thought it'd be so damn literal with Feliciano, though.

IIII

The study behind the stairs was warded heavily enough Gilbert shivered as they walked through the outer layer.

“What the Hell was that?”

Feliciano didn't answer. He walked up to the door and signed for Gilbert to stand back and get out his gun to cover him while Feliciano picked the lock. Once done, Feli stepped back and gestured for Gilbert to get the door. Gilbert tried it and shook his head. Feliciano scowled at the lock again and then realized it was likely spelled shut as well. He made a cross noise and glared at it, hating that he had to try and see magic – it gave him a headache ridiculously fast.

He did it anyways until he saw enough to tell him that it wasn't all that well done: it was tied do the functional lock itself. He pulled out his gun and shot it twice, then forced the door open. It went, and Gilbert kicked the door the rest of the way open and scanned the room, settling with his gun aimed at the desk in the far corner.

“Don't move,” Gilbert snapped.

Feliciano followed Gilbert into the room and stood in front of the door, a thin smile directed at the man. He wasn't a very intimidating man by appearance. He looked old, perhaps in his late seventies, Japanese and well-dressed in an English business suit under a Japanese coat. He'd stood up from the desk where several papers lay scattered. 

“What are you doing here?” the man demanded, speaking clear English. “My wards –” 

Feliciano moved to where Gilbert could see his hands and signed rapidly. Gilbert relayed his words in English like second nature.

“Your wards are weakened. There's a monster in the house that's eating people. It did something that sucked energy out of everything, including this place. What do you know about it?”

“Impossible.” The man stared between them. “He's translating for you?”

Feliciano nodded and carried on. “What is the monster? Why is it in this house?”

“I do not know what monster you mean.”

Feliciano snarled. “Don't lie to me. This is your house and your magic. How did it get trapped in here if you didn't have anything to do with it – unless it's what trapped you here?”

Gilbert's translation included a few expletives Feliciano hadn't used, but he let them stand. The magician gave Gilbert an offended look.

“I did not trap any monsters in here. I died in this house and stayed behind to keep my young daughter company when I found she had stayed as well.”

Feliciano stepped up to the edge of the rug on the floor and dragged it back. The floorboards were clean and bright as the day they had been laid down, but the energy radiating from the exposed floor was enough to make Gilbert step away and cross himself. Feliciano did the same and dropped the carpet, his hands shaking. 

“Explain this, then.” 

The magician stared back at him evenly. “I was exploring a new magic. I did not realize how much it would linger.”

“You were killing people for power,” Feliciano retaliated. “I know others who use this magic. You did not learn this without learning what it could do.”

Gilbert looked like he wanted to argue, but Feliciano cut off the mutinous look and asked a different question. “Where are we? What is this place?”

“What do you mean?”

“We're just souls. I need to get back to my body; how can I do that?”

“You're dead,” the magician gave him a slightly confused look. “Why do you expect you can get back?”

Feliciano swallowed and did not look at Gilbert. He couldn't afford to get distracted. “I was brought here by a friend, but he was forced to leave to conserve energy he was using somewhere else. If he could come and go, why can't I?”

“I do not know how you would do that. I stay here, where I am safe.” The magician began to fidget. “What was it that took energy from this place?”

Feliciano signed in aggravation. “He said it was shielding the house again. I don't know how exactly that did this.”

“What was shielding the house?” The magician's composure cracked. “What was using magic?”

“The monster,” Feliciano gave him an arch look. “Do you remember now?”

“That's impossible. None of them should be able to use magic.” The man started to look over his papers, shuffling through them rapidly.

“None of what?” Feliciano stepped closer to Gilbert, preparing in case the man threw a spell at them. 

The magician looked like he might answer, then stopped and stared at the door. “Is anyone else here with you?”

“Kiku and Ulrich,” Gilbert said, but Feliciano shook his head.

“Ulrich is gone and Kiku is dead,” he signed, and Gilbert stared back at him. 

“Why are you so sure Kiku is dead if technically we are as well?”

Feliciano shrugged and put himself between Gilbert and the door again, not believing for a moment that either of them returning was more likely than the alternative. Gilbert holstered his gun and drew his sword. The magician threw a spell at the door a moment before it was thrown open in a crash of sparks.

A young Japanese man stood behind the sparks and didn't even glance at Feliciano and Gilbert in the corner. “You useless old man! You left me here!”

“You!” The Magician gaped. “You're the one behind this? I thought I left you trapped where I didn't have to deal with you anymore!”

“Deal with me, will you? I am done dealing with what you left behind in this house!” The young man circled the desk warily, then rushed the magician and grabbed at his throat.

The magician stepped aside and threw another spell. It hit the young man and the youth's eyes turned black. 

“I am greater than your magic now, old man!” the youth snarled. 

“Ryuuzu, come back to your senses!”

Feliciano gasped and grabbed Gilbert's arm to drag him out of the room as Ryuuzu rushed the man and slammed his head through the wall.

Feliciano didn't look back. He didn't want to see what he'd done. Gilbert clung to his hand and his longer legs took him out the door behind the stairs ahead of them. He ran to the front door, but it was locked. Feliciano dragged him back and saw the monster come around the stairs. He considered hiding in the bathroom, but the spirit wouldn't be there and he could turn human, couldn't he? He could get inside.

Maybe the ladder was still intact in the basement? Feliciano dragged Gilbert to that door and fumbled his lockpicks, then dropped them. Gilbert cursed and grunted behind him, then shouted a war cry as he forced the monster to take a step back. Feliciano crouched to try and gather the pieces, but he was crying, knowing this wouldn't work – he wasn't that fast at picking locks, they needed to run. They couldn't have locked doors in their way.

Feliciano grabbed the door and forced the handle to turn. The lock caught, then clicked open. Feliciano threw it open and darted through, making a muffled noise at Gilbert. 

Gilbert darted back through the door and grabbed Feliciano's hand again as they ran down the stairs and around the corner. 

Feliciano hit the next door and tried again, his heart in his throat remembering the key was behind them, in a small room it would be simple to trap them in. The door had to open and, to his relief, it did. 

Ulrich had insisted they had control over the environment here. As Feli dragged Gilbert down the hallway behind him, he wondered giddily if this was part of it. If he could make the doors open... 

There was a crash behind them, and drywall shattered. Gilbert swore under his breath and kept up, light flashing off his sword with each step – lights Feliciano hadn't turned on, but were on nonetheless because they needed them. 

They hit and passed three more doors, and Feliciano hid his dull surprise that they might actually make it out, make it past the dizzying number of doors that had always been locked before. Feli pushed the chairs into the table and turned the last corner only to run into the metal cell door.

It didn't have a handle, just a deadbolt. He started to fumble for his lockpicks only to remember he'd left them at the top of the basement stairs – with the key in the far room. 

Gilbert cursed behind him and Feli flinched as he heard him grunt in effort as Ryuuzu caught up and Gil turned to fight him off. Feliciano rattled the door and couldn't think. He couldn't make the door open, and they were going to die because he was useless. 

“Feli, can't you get it open? What's wrong?”

Feliciano turned away from the door and tucked himself into the corner, tears running down his face. They weren't going to make it out. He was going to get Gilbert killed and they'd never know what happened. They wouldn't even know how much he'd failed. 

“Dammit Feli,” Gilbert grunted and forced the monster back, his sword flashing, fast enough to counter every time the monster tried to crush him. “How did we get past the other doors?” He didn't wait for Feli to respond, answering his question as best he could. “You did fine. You made them all open, didn't need lock picks. I know every other door was locked, so you got past it somehow. Why won't it work here?”

Feliciano opened his mouth, but he hadn't been able to speak so far. He definitely couldn't now, even had he wanted to. He hiccoughed and covered his mouth.

“So there's something about this door, specifically. If it's the lack of handle, I guess we can't fix it, but –” Gilbert gasped and slammed back into the bars as the monster punched at him. He'd kept his sword between its claws and him, and snarled, bracing his hand on the flat of his blade. He pushed himself off the bars to throw the monster back several steps, reclaiming the small pocket of safety they had in the doorway. He gasped for breath and carried on, his shirt was sticking to his back with sweat. 

“There's got to be other ways out,” Gilbert insisted. “You said we're spirits here – just souls. Do we have to get out through a door?”

Feliciano shook his head, not wanting him to pursue that thought. He didn't want him to know. 

“Kiku's dead, like the magician. Ulrich – Ulrich's been dead for centuries now.” He thrust his sword between the monster's claws and twisted its limb back before jerking his sword free. “They're dead, but you said he brought you here – so you're not dead, but we were. Are.”

“No,” Feliciano whispered. “Gil...”

“If you're not dead,” Gilbert carried on, raising his voice. “You can go back to your body.” He drew his gun and shot the monster in the head. It staggered back, but didn't vanish, staring at Gilbert with hate. He emptied his gun into its face and turned to face Feli more. “You need to go back, Feli. Your brother needs you; Ludwig needs you. You know how to heal souls, right?”

The monster came back and Gilbert screamed a war cry and forced it back again, keeping it from touching him still. Again. Feliciano tried to stand up, tried to force himself to stop panicking, to think – because if he could just think, he could force the cell open and then shut again, and they wouldn't have this problem. If he could just think, they could skip it entirely. 

Except he couldn't think, could just stare, knowing Gilbert couldn't fight like this forever.

Knowing he couldn't live with himself if Gilbert died protecting him. 

Gilbert ducked under the monster's claws, cutting at its stomach and forcing it back another step before jumping back out of reach, a hair too fast for it to grab him on a swipe down.

And a hair too slow to dodge as it backhanded him into the wall. 

The walls were stone and dirt – too hard to crack, too solid to break. Gilbert slammed into the wall and his breath went out in a gasp that choked off. He sank to the floor, blood streaking the wall and running down his skin – staining white hair red as he stared blankly at the floor.

Feliciano's breath came faster and went out in a whimper, over and over again. He wanted to stare at Gilbert – go to him – but the monster stepped closer and stood between him and Gilbert with something resembling gloating before it brought one hand back, ready to try and put him through the wall as well. 

Feliciano choked and grabbed his rosary, mouthing the words on the medallion. “Ave Maria, gracia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta...” He closed his eyes and whispered, “Benedicta tu in mulieribus.”

Habit took over. He opened his awareness of himself, and there was a thread leading somewhere away from here – away from his failure. He fled down it, with no idea where it went except that it was away. Everything went black.

And then it all started to hurt all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for character death  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	29. Chapter 29

Ludwig awoke to frantic voices and darkness. Just in sight, standing by the stairs going down, China was arguing with Honda and Alfred in the light of an electric lantern. They were trying to keep their voices down, but China was nearly hysterical. 

“He was just gone!” China insisted. “I don't know what happened, he'd been acting weird the entire time!”

On the other side of Feliciano's body, Lovino was asleep, one arm across his brother's shoulders. Just beyond him, Gilbert's eyes were open as he held Antonio against his bare chest. 

“What do you mean, he was acting weird?” Alfred asked.

“He was very set on where he wanted to go – he was impatient and blunt. If I hadn't gone with him, he'd have gone alone! He went to the papers when we went into the main room, then sent me into the study. I heard a thump and came back out to find him gone!”

“Nothing had changed?” 

“The papers on the table had been moved. I couldn't tell if any were missing; I hadn't looked. I know Éluósī can be difficult, but we can't just leave him!”

“Of course we aren't going to,” Alfred insisted. “We need some more idea of what happened down there, though. Mattie, could you go take a look?”

“Me?” Canada's voice came out of the kitchen. “Why not you?”

“The journal that Antonio and Lovino brought back has notes the Arthur from the past made on what happened when they lost someone. I want to run it by ours when he wakes up; I think it'll be useful to finding out how we can get out. Nobody else understands the way he writes.” Alfred turned back to Yao. “I finished a second version of the sigil if you want me to put it on your sword, by the way; the same thing I did for Ivan.”

“Very well,” Yao said. “I would not wish to go down with just myself and Jiānádà, even as much as I trust his skill with the crossbow.”

“I can come,” Gilbert said. He moved Antonio off his chest and pulled on his binder, lacing it shut and tugging on his t-shirt overtop. “Is there anything to eat before we go?”

“We should have someone else with a longsword,” Canada said carefully.

“I will go with you,” Honda said. “I think there should be something we can take with us.”

The group disappeared into the kitchen, turning on that light as Alfred worked at one of the tables under the lantern on China's sword. Ludwig considered getting up and offering to help – maybe even eating something – but his arm was cushioning Feliciano's head and he didn't want to disturb him. He hadn't slept while they'd been here, after all; it seemed likely Feliciano hadn't had a good sleep in a very long time. Unconsciousness wasn't quite the same thing, but it seemed as close as he'd get.

Not long after, the group left. Gilbert shot a wave his direction and left down the stairs with the rest, leaving Antonio to seek out Lovino's warmth as they all curled up around Feliciano. Across from them, François was asleep with Arthur again, although apparently not for long as Arthur suddenly cried out and his leg seized up. François woke instantly and started murmuring comfort to him.

Ludwig considered getting up again – he had other needs he needed to take care of as well – but the thought of leaving Feliciano's side filled him with dread that he'd come back and find him dead. Still, it was starting to become a pressing need and Feliciano was not going to be alone without him: he had his brother now.

That finally got him to extricate his arm from under Feliciano's head and he went to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face, trying not to look at his face in the mirror. He looked tired and unwell, and he didn't like that. He didn't like it at all.

He stopped by the kitchen as well, and found the potato soup was still in the pot and covered. He took some, and some water and went back to the beds to sit and eat it, not wanting to be away any longer. The soup was cold and tasteless, almost certainly because he was too disinterested to taste much of anything at all, and he ate with mechanical focus. When someone groaned beside him, he chalked it up to Lovino's disturbed sleep until Lovino gasped and sat up hard.

“Fratello?” Lovino whispered. “Feli?”

Feliciano convulsed in place and grabbed his brother's shirt hard, launching into a fit of choking and strangled sobs. Ludwig dropped everything and knelt behind him, a hand on his shoulder as Feliciano turned onto his side.

“Fratello, fratello, can you hear me?” Lovino begged. “Please, fratello, squeeze my hand if you can?” Lovino sobbed and stroked Feliciano's hair a moment later, whispering “I love you, how dare you scare me like that,” that told him Feliciano was back and hearing him – at least enough to respond to questions like that. A moment later, Feliciano's hands moved and Lovino glowered at Ludwig. “Get him water, would you, unless you have some left.”

Ludwig noticed that he'd spilled both bowl and mug everywhere on the bedding, but Feliciano needed him. He picked up the mug and left to the kitchen, coming back with the mug and Alfred on his heels.

“He's back?” Alfred said, intensely relieved.

“Yes,” Lovino said. He took the mug and motioned for Ludwig to sit. 

Feliciano turned to smile weakly at Ludwig as he did so and quickly crawled into his lap as he drank the water, his body still limp and shaking. 

“I'm back?” Feliciano whispered. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Luwig stroked his hair. “You're fine. You're back. Everything's going to be alright.”

“Are they okay?”

“Amerika's right there; England's asleep behind him.”

Feliciano shook his head firmly. “Honda and Gilbert. Are they okay?”

“What about them?” Romano asked.

“They're fine,” Ludwig answered. “You just missed them, they went...” He hesitated, then explained anyways. “Russland's missing.”

“Call him?” Feliciano gave Ludwig a pleading look, and he knew that look. He pulled out his phone and, relieved to see he had reception, dialled Gilbert's cell. 

“What happened?” Lovino asked as it rang.

“I had a nightmare,” Feliciano said, then took the phone and held it tightly to his ear. A moment later, he burst into tears and choked out, “Ciao... Yes, its me. I'm okay. I needed to hear your voice... Of course, tesoro, of course I'll be here. Thank you. Can I speak to Honda?” There was another pause, then Feliciano sighed and relaxed. “Ciao, Honda. Yes, I am fine. Thank you... I had a nightmare, that's all. I'll see you when you get back... No, that's all. Ciao.”

Ludwig took his phone back quietly as Feliciano pressed deeper into his chest, still crying softly. Ludwig ran his fingers through his hair, over and over, unsure what to say. It was a relief just to hold him and feel him, alive beneath his hands again. He kissed Feli's hair and waited; the rest would come when they had more news from the annexe.

IIII

“So why did Alfred want you to come with us instead of him?” Prussia asked.

“Arthur tried to teach me magic,” Mattie said. “He didn't need to, but he tried, so I will have some idea of what the spells downstairs are.”

“What do you mean, he didn't need to?” 

Mattie stopped and fished his flashlight out of his backpack to glance down the ladder to the annexe again. He motioned for China to go first, then shot Prussia another awkward smile. “I mean I was already using magic, which is why he tried, but I don't do it the way he does.”

“Oh, yeah. What magic were you already using?”

“You should go down next,” Mattie said, and Prussia did so, still giving him an amused look. Mathieu sighed a little and followed him. At the bottom, he looked at Prussia again and found him staring at the wall looking cross. “What is it?”

“Huh?” Prussia jumped and smiled awkwardly at him. “Oh, nothing. Just been a while since I had a smoke, that's all.” 

“If China and Japan don't mind, I have some with me,” Mattie suggested. “I had one a while ago.” 

“It will not bother me,” Japan said.

“Once we're settled,” China said. “I don't want you wasting time with it.”

“I know that,” Prussia snapped. “I was explaining why I felt weird, not asking for it, but yeah if we get downtime a smoke would be nice.”

“Let's get into the main room then?” Mathieu suggested. “We know Russie disappeared there.”

With Japan taking up the rear, China and Prussia led the way into the main room. Mattie stopped by the table and glanced around the room. He closed his eyes and did the shift in his head so that when he opened his eyes again the room was a tangle of cords and eddies of light that made his eyes water. He swallowed and forced himself to look until he could distinguish one piece from another, even as his hands began to shake.

Alfred and Arthur had grown up seeing all of this, but he hadn't started to learn how to see it until he was over a century old and his eyes did not like the trick at all. Still, eventually the lines began to make sense and he could see in the matrix the places that were not the same as the others. He walked over towards the bookcase and ran his hand along the books there until he confirmed that the spells weren't associated with any of them. 

He stepped back and bumped into something. The magic sight dropped in an instant and he turned and drew his knife in the same motion, hitting flesh and pushing the person back hard.

Prussia hit the dirt with a curse, his right arm cut and bleeding. Mathieu jerked off his backpack and grabbed the first aid kit. 

“I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you! How bad is it? Are you going to be okay?”

“Hah, yeah!” Prussia laughed. “Don't worry about me, I shoulda known better than to stand that close.” He lifted his arm and stared at the cut again. “That's a Hell of a knife you have.”

Mathieu grimaced. “Is that your dominant arm?”

Prussia blinked at him, then nodded in understanding. “No, hah, it's not. You can just bandage it; save the energy.”

“We're healing slowly enough I think that needs stitches to make it close.”

Prussia just shrugged. “How good at them are you?”

Mathieu gave him a dry look and fished out the needle and thread. “It'll have to be cut out later, but I can get that done in a minute if you don't care if it's tidy.”

“Fast is good.” 

To his relief, Prussia kept his arm elevated and moved to the table as he got the needle threaded and joined him. China and Japan came over as well.

“What happened?” China asked.

“He surprised me.” Mathieu said. “Can one of you call Alfred and put him on speakerphone?” 

“Did you find something?” Japan asked. He got out his phone and dialled.

“I think so.” He glanced at the phone as Japan set it down on the table, but most of his attention he put to stitching closed Prussia's arm, relieved – and not really surprised – that Prussia did not flinch from the needle. 

“Moshi-moshi?” Alfred said.

“It's Mattie. We're downstairs.”

“Oh, hey!” Alfred switched back to English with a laugh. “What happened to your phone?”

“I asked Japon to call you. I think I found the path up to the annexe. It might've been trapped at some point, but something ripped the spells apart. However, I think one of the spells on the house is holding it closed.”

“Huh, which one?”

Mattie cut the last thread and fished out gauze to pad the cut and wrap it into place. He recalled the shape of the spellwork and started to describe it as best he could. Alfred had to ask him to verify a few things and, once the bandage was wrapped into place, Mattie picked up the phone and walked back over to the bookcase to call up the Sight again. 

Halfway through, he heard Alfred catch himself and say aside, “Oh, yeah, he can sit, I'll talk him through it in a moment, okay?”

Mattie bit his lip and didn't tell Alfred he should make Arthur shove it, even though he badly wanted to. “Do you think you have everything?”

“One sec, Arthur thinks he recognizes it.” Alfred's voice went remote and he began to repeat what Mattie had told him. Mattie could hear Arthur's positive reactions and when he asked some clarifying questions Mathieu hoped that at least this would lead to something useful.

“Are you sure?" Alfred said. "I thought it was steeper than that – Mattie, what angle was on the left upper quadrant again?”

Mattie muffled a groan and squinted at the sigils again, pulling off his glasses to rub them clear before he tried to see normally again. The magic was clear against the blurred bookcase. “Between 21 and 25 degrees – I'm pretty sure it's greater than 20.”

“Okay, yeah, then this might not be that hard to fix,” Alfred said happily. “Arthur says it's the same spell used on the clocks. There must be one or two we missed, if we can find that and break them inside, that ward should drop.”

“If it's the one keeping the door shut, yeah. I thought we'd gotten all of them, though.”

“I can check for them, I think, I –” His voice went remote again. “Really? Oh, yeah, that'll be easy then! Hey Mattie,” he came back. “I'll call you when I've gotten to it, okay?”

“Alright. We'll wait here,” Mattie agreed. “Call me soon.”

“Promise!”

He hung up the phone, and Mathieu stared at the phone before reaching up to the bookcase and tugging on a book he thought might be the trigger. He felt it catch and the bookcase shook but, as he'd expected, it didn't open.

“Is that a trap door?” Gilbert asked.

“Yeah, it is.” Mathieu frowned at it again. 

“Are you sure it actually leads somewhere, though?”

“We haven't run into anything else that's just a trap yet, as far as I could tell.” Mattie stepped back and stared at the bookshelf, lost in thought. “I think it might have been trapped – there's spellwork here that got destroyed – but if it had killed Russie, it would either have had scent suppression or environmental isolation spells like upstairs, or it kills without creating a mess.” Mathieu walked back over to the table and sat down to start looking over the papers. He found a map near the top and slid it over to Gilbert. “There, I think that's what this leads to.”

“That's a whole other building.” Gilbert stared. 

“Éluósī was looking at that before he disappeared,” China said. 

“Lemme try something,” Mathieu got out his own phone and took a picture of the map and trying to send it by text to Austria. It rapidly failed. “Damn.”

“What happened?”

“Signal failure. I think that's just asking too much of the signal we get. Later maybe.” He pocketed his phone again and fished through the backpack for his cigarillos and lighter. He lit up his own and then slid the lighter to Prussia. “Remind me once we get out I owe you a decent cigar for that mess.”

Prussia laughed and lit up as well. “Nah, we're cool! Really. These are nice, I'm used to smoking cheap crap.”

“I like nice tobacco,” Mathieu tried not to blush hard at the compliment. “I've smoked my whole life.”

Prussia shot him an approving look. “It's hard to keep track of you sometimes, I never knew half the things I've learned about you in the past couple days.”

Mathieu shrugged and blushed again, closing his eyes to quietly enjoy the smoke. China and Japan had retreated to another part of the room to talk while they smoked at the table. 

“You never really answered me asking about your magic use,” Prussia said abruptly. “Do you not like to talk about it?”

“Hrm?” Mathieu exhaled slowly and shrugged. “Not usually. Most people either assume I do things like Italy or Arthur do, or they get angry about me not telling them how I disappear, or they think magic is evil.” He gave Prussia a long look, knowing that, in the past, he fell under the latter category.

“Considering what most people do with it, it is,” Prussia said. “But given where we are now that's kinda a luxury opinion.” He shot Mathieu an amused look. “Is the disappearing thing a secret then?”

“No,” Mathieu shrugged. “It's unintentional. A lot of my magic is focus and will – I don't use patterns, so nothing I do is very strong – and I just... don't want to be seen, or noticed, and I'm not. Except it's not reacting to conscious urges for that most of the time, and if I'm not paying attention I don't know it's happened until people stop reacting to me.” Mathieu shifted to face him more. “How about you? I know you're close to Italy and he uses magic, so why don't you?”

“I was an idealistic bastard at the time Holy Rome offered to teach me.” Prussia laughed and leaned back in his chair, bracing his feet on the table as he did. “I know I have the ability. He was disappointed I didn't want to learn, but, well. You've heard what I was like.”

“Yes, I did,” Mathiue agreed, “although I didn't know how much was just Arthur being Arthur about his neighbours, and François being delicate.” 

“Nah, if you've heard something bad about me before the 1500s its probably not exaggerated.”

Mathieu raised his eyebrows, but did not ask. He had heard some alarming things. “Do you want to learn more now?”

Gilbert hesitated. “Is there anything I could even learn in the time we have?”

“I suppose if you try to focus on just using will, you could do something – nothing big, though. It means you can't do anything your own body can't sustain and very rarely do you reach the limit of that.”

“What does that mean, though?” Prussia asked.

Mathieu eyed his cigarillo again as he thought of what to say. “Will's – a really straightforward thing. If you believe you can do it, you can, but there's always a limit to what your body can handle. What Arthur does extends that by – it's like using a pulley or a lever. You put your energy in on the one end and, through the tool, you expand it.”

Prussia made a few. “Is that why Lovino was cussing out England when he got back?”

“Yeah, basically, except...” Mathieu scowled. “I guess what Italy does is more like using a lever or a pulley than what Arthur does. Italy uses music patterns to extend his energy by making it work in a very controlled, precise manner. Arthur's patterns and writing is like – running an engine. His spells will suck any energy in until they run dry or reach their goal, and it they don't find enough - like being in a closed room with one - the results can be disastrous. Arthur attached the spell to come back to Romano and his anger, and basically ripped him dry. What he did to himself was a more severe version of that, because he's used to being able to run his spells on ambient energy and so it doesn't normally draw from him directly.”

“But you and Feliciano are used to working within your limits, so you're not hampered like he is?” Prussia said. He took a long breath on his cigarillo and savoured it with a smile. “That's cool, I'd never thought of it like that.”

“Yeah.” Mathieu blushed a little, surprised at both how well he'd taken it and how much he'd understood. He fished a notebook out of his bag. “I can show you more of the basic concepts if you want, especially if you can read music?”

“Okay sure.” Prussia eyed the book then added “Can you try and write a bit bigger than that, I don't have my glasses with me and your handwriting's not that clear.”

Mattie glanced at his face and frowned a little. “Are you sure you're alright?” he asked. 

Prussia glanced back at him, finishing off his cigarillo as he did so. “Yeah, sure. I feel a lot better, why?” 

He blinked and Mathieu swallowed a little as he noticed his eyes were definitely tracking a little to the left and flicking back. It wasn't large, but now that he was watching for it was definitely there and consistent.

“Your eyes are tracking a little.”

“Oh that?” Prussia laughed. “No, that's normal for me, really.”

“It's not related to any kind of withdrawal or anything?” They didn't need another person that badly off, but it seemed unlikely it would only be kicking in now unless he'd hidden taking it better than Arthur bothered.

“No, really it's not," Prussia repeated. "It's just a muscle twitch, nothing more. It could be a lot worse. Just don't stare at my face if it bugs you, I'm not gonna be offended.”

Mathieu shrugged and went back to writing, making the effort to write neatly and larger as he did so. It wasn't that hard, and it gave them something to do as he waited for Alfred to call him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for smoking  
> Brief mention of food  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> For those curious, the eye twitch symptom is known as nystagmus.


	30. Chapter 30

Alfred looked around the room after he hung up the phone and swallowed. He had to head out, obviously, but the only people left in the room were Arthur, Francis, Feliciano, Ludwig, Lovino and Antonio. Arthur was out, which meant Francis had to stay, and Lovino and Antonio were still dead asleep – assuming Lovino's sight was even back yet, either. Hating that he had to ask, he left Francis to help Arthur and went over to Feliciano and Ludwig in bed with an awkward smile.

“Hey,” he said. “Were you listening?”

“Yes, I heard.” Ludwig sighed tiredly. “Lovino just got back to sleep.”

“I can go,” Feliciano said. “You were talking about the clocks?”

“Yeah, so I mean if its the one you left upstairs we should be able to deal with it really quickly, but nobody should head out alone again, you know?”

Feliciano nodded and stood up, holding out his hand to Ludwig and smiling at him with relief. “Let's make it quick, then.”

“Great.” Alfred went back to his stuff and checked that he had full magazines in both guns, now that he'd had the chance to reorganize them. Feliciano did the same and checked his knives as Ludwig checked as well. With a quick glance at them both to confirm it, Alfred led the way out of the saferoom and upstairs.

Nothing happened in the house as they made their way upstairs. When they reached the attic room, the first thing Alfred saw inside was the mochi bouncing in place on the side table. He grinned as soon as he saw it and offered his arms to it. “Hey! You're still here little guy? I'm sorry I didn't make it back sooner, I forgot all about you!”

“That thing again?” Feliciano complained. 

“Yeah, that thing.” Alfred looked at him curiously as the creature climbed up to his shoulder and squeezed itself against his neck. “What's wrong with it?”

“It shouldn't be in here. I've never seen it in here before at all!” 

Ludwig pressed a hand into Feliciano's shoulder and Feli exhaled and pulled open the side table without carrying on. Alfred let him drop it, trying to figure out how that could even work. He stopped as Feliciano pulled out two clocks with shaking hands. 

“They're both in here,” Feli said softly. “Why are both in here? Why didn't he hide it again?”

“What do you mean?” Alfred asked. The mochi chirped on his shoulder and leaned forward and fell. Alfred caught it quickly and held it close again. “Hey, be careful!”

“We need to break them both anyways,” Ludwig said.

“Is either of them trapped?” Feliciano asked shakily.

Alfred blinked and offered his hand to look them both over, but they were identical to each other and what Arthur had described. “Nothing new on them, no. They both look fine. Why are you not surprised there's two?”

“I dreamed another one was made,” Feliciano said miserably. “It – I dreamed a lot of things. I think it was relevant.”

“Like the memories?” Alfred said.

“Yeah, kind of like that.” He put the watches side by side on the side table and broke them both in rapid succession. Alfred swallowed hard and tried not to crush the mochi against his chest.

The attic room faded and he was walking into the white piano room on the third floor, filled with curiosity until he saw Arthur, bloodied and snarling as he faced the monster. Alfred rushed to his side, feeling like he was walking in soup as the magic was so thick he could feel it even knowing his Sight was blocked. 

“What the Hell man, what's going on?” He grabbed Arthur's shoulder, feeling sick and scared as he realized Arthur had already used enough magic to take his sight. Arthur startled at his touch and tried to push him off. 

“What are you doing, get out of here!”

“No, not without you!”

“Idiot,” Arthur snarled. “The room's going to blow, save yourself!”

Alfred glanced at the grimoire still open in his hands and the page fluttering and open and laughed. “Don't be stupid Arthur, I helped you write that spell.”

Arthur dug his nails into Alfred's arm. “You're a useless little martyr, can't you let me save you once?”

“What the Hell did you even do to yourself?” Alfred snapped.

“Saved your life once already,” he muttered. “You're a fucking ungrateful wretch.” He slid his arm around Alfred's waist and Alfred choked on his breath, leaning into him and exhaled as he opened his Sight and fed himself into the spell as well so it'd take faster. 

“We're already dead anyways,” Alfred said.

Alfred was ripped from the memory and straight into a second one. He flinched and covered his ears as he felt them trying to pop and not able to, knowing the feeling would – hopefully – end soon.

“I don't think he can do this,” Alfred said weakly.

“He has asked to try,” Ivan replied. He stood in front of the front door and the temperature dropped again. He was wavering in place and Alfred didn't ask why. He considered opening his Sight, but wasn't sure he wanted to see what was going on anyways. He wasn't even sure he could. General Winter wasn't the dead, even as much as he could make himself known in other ways. 

Frost was forming on the doorhandle. The others weren't down here; Alfred had only known Ivan was here because he'd seen him leave, a look of fixed purpose on his face. 

The door wasn't making any noise, and that, in itself, was alarming Alfred more than the cold. Something should've been happening. The door should've reacted to this by now. He looked up and down the hallways, but nobody was there. No sign of the monster. Was it upstairs with the others? Waiting for something?

Why hadn't Winter just blasted the door off its hinges yet? Isn't that what he normally did?

Ivan's breathing was starting to become laboured and Alfred wondered uneasily if the same problem Arthur had was plaguing Winter – the inability to draw energy from anywhere but them. He bit his lip, knowing he was shielded so tightly Winter couldn't draw from him without forcing him open – but if he did that...

Would it make a difference?

The frost on the doorhandle suddenly vanished and Alfred only had seconds to wonder why before he slammed to his knees in the attic, gasping for breath and shaking so hard he couldn't move. He scrambled back until his back hit the wall and started to sob uncontrollably. 

Arthur was talking in his ears and it took him a minute to realize it wasn't flashbacks, but the spell, memories, fading still – Arthur didn't talk like that in flashbacks. 

“We need something to send forward to get out of this alive, Alfred. You believe me, about the time loops – about who I saw. I need something, and I can't do the spell and use my own life for it, you understand.”

Alfred curled up around his knees and started to rock, too panicked to think it through. Something was chirping by his elbow and he finally talked himself into looking. The mochi bounced and cheeped in place, clearly desperate for him to pick it up. 

Alfred lowered his legs enough to move it into his lap and began to pet its smooth head, shaking so hard he couldn't take a full breath still. The mochi's skin was there under his hands, and it was starting to make a sound like a purr that vibrated its whole body. He could feel it vibrating against his chest and chirping periodically whenever his hand stopped moving and he'd lost track of where he was. 

Some time later he looked up and saw Ludwig stroking Feliciano's back, both of them on their knees as well. Alfred cleared his throat roughly. “I'm okay,” he said. “I...”

“The memories were bad,” Feliciano whispered. “Yes.”

Alfred laughed tiredly and cuddled the mochi closer, needing something in his arms. “Yeah, they were. I...” Mattie. He needed to tell Mattie. “I should call Mattie, ask him if that worked. One sec.”

Mattie always helped him feel better. Arthur talked him into too many things.

IIII

Mattie's explanation to Prussia cut off halfway through as his phone rang maybe fifteen minutes after he'd started. He picked it up quickly and stood up to walk back over to the bookcase. “You found it?”

“Yeah, we did!” Alfred laughed and Mattie could hear the tension in his voice. He swallowed before he said anything and promised himself he'd spend the next few months with Alfred to make up for all of this. “Is the passage open now?”

Mattie found the book to open it again and pulled it. The bookcase swung open and Mattie jumped back, drawing his bowie knife as he did. China, Prussia, and Japan darted over as well, blades drawn, but the space that opened was empty. “Yes, it did. Thank you, that was great Alfred.”

“Yeah, sure. We'll go back soon – huh? No, describe that again Feli? I think I remember that.”

“Remember what?” Mattie asked.

“He described the front door key. I got that memory, like, way back.”

“You mean for the mansion front door?” Mattie said. “So we should find Russia soon?”

“...maybe,” Alfred said cautiously. “Nothing's been that simple yet. I gotta go Mattie, I'll meet you back at the saferoom, promise!”

“Sure thing,” Mattie said. The phone went dead, and he tucked it back into his pocket before walking back to the table to pack his backpack once more. “You three ready?”

“What was that about the front door?” China demanded.

“I don't think it's what I thought it was.” Mattie shouldered his backpack and came back to the entrance. “We'll hear about it in detail when we get back.” He flicked on the flashlight and studied the area. There was dust, and no sign it had been disturbed except a few footprints and a small pile of plaster dust on the floor. He walked in first and the space smelled like mildew and closed spaces, the stairs of dubious integrity. He walked by the wall as he went up, but Prussia passed him in the centre without a care.

At the top of the stairs, however, Prussia was stopped by the door. “I can't figure out how to open it.”

Mattie swept over the door with the flashlight. “There isn't one, or a hole for one,” He observed. “It's probably some kind of switch.”

Prussia was running his hands over the frame and found it a few seconds later and tripped it with a triumphant noise. Mattie braced himself for the fall-out, but nothing happened. The door opened into a hallway lit by the ambient light of the outdoors from an open door nearby. Prussia started towards it, but Mattie caught him and walked up cautiously. 

It looked out on an overgrown rock garden with a low wall around it. He shone his flashlight over it, assessing the wall was of dubious integrity and noticing with interest that there was footsteps in the pebbles that led inside the house.

“Someone came in here, recently,” Mattie said. He stepped up to the doorway and then stopped, feeling very certain this couldn't be that easy. He took two steps back and opened his Sight to study the door. There was nothing there; the spell he'd seen in the basement, yes, one he didn't know the purpose of, but nothing else. He stepped up to the door again, then looked down.

There was the trap he'd expected, and Mattie eyed it with grim admiration. He didn't know everything it did, but he could see that it had the trigger set very clearly – to trip when people went out, but not in. But if they could get out...

“Chine,” Mathieu said, “Stand by the door but stay on this side of the threshold.”

“What is it?”

“A trap. I want to see what it does.”

“You're the healer, shouldn't someone else do that?” Prussia objected.

Mathieu shook his head and didn't try to explain how much easier healing himself was before he stepped past the threshold.

Vines he hadn't seen along the walls reached out and grabbed onto his arms and legs. Mattie jerked away and China cut the ones on his side immediately, only for more to try and form. Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and Mattie wanted to go for his knife, but he didn't have enough freedom of movement along that side of his body. Someone cut his other side free, then slammed the door shut. 

“So we're not gonna try that exit yet,” Prussia said calmly. “Let's check out the rest of the place.”

“How did someone come in if that happens every time you cross the door?” China objected.

Mathieu coughed and pulled free from Prussia's grip, brushing himself off and standing up. “The spell only activates when going out from inside. We need to keep an eye out for two other people.”

“There's two ways forward,” Prussia said. “Should we split up?”

Mathieu frowned. “...It's probably better if we can find Russia sooner rather than later, yes. Don't get split up. We'll meet at the far side?”

“There appears to be a second floor,” Japan said.

“We can take that,” Prussia volunteered. “One set upstairs, one set down, we'll still meet at the same spot.”

“Alright,” Mathieu said. “Be careful about doorways. If there's one trap, there will be more.”

“And the floor,” China muttered. “This place is a broken piece of shit!”

“It looks like the abandoned house people claim it is,” he agreed. He looked around, then startled at the hole in the wall. “What's that?”

Japan turned and frowned at it. “It's a hole.”

“There was fresh plaster downstairs, by the door.” Mathieu walked over and compared the hole to his hand. “Whoever it was had small hands.”

“That could be a lot of people around here,” Prussia said.

“But shouldn't the house fix itself like the mansion does?”

Mathieu stepped back and turned around, closing his eyes to look at the rest of the house. The tangle of magic he could see was absolute chaos. His eyes began to water instantly and he gave up and scrubbed at them madly. The threshold had not been representative of the rest of the house. “Fuck!”

“What was it?”

“The – the magic on this part of the house is a mess! I can't make sense of anything inside, its too... chaotic. That's the only word for it.”

“Keh!” Prussia grinned. “Sounds like fun. Let's go, yeah? We'll take the left, you go straight. See you at the far side.”

Mathieu smiled and watched them leave with a concerned frown. He opened the side door again and China cursed at him. “Don't try that again, you fool!”

“I'm not, I want to look at the footprints again.” He stayed a good foot back from the threshold, staring at the dips in the sand and confirming for himself they were fresh. One set was small like the hands; the other, not much bigger. 

Who did he know was outside? Most Nations keeps specific company. Most of the Europeans were closer to his height. Someone possibly shorter than him and someone even smaller, who was willing to brave a haunted house...? He just didn't know.

“Jiānádà!”

Mattie turned to look and slammed the door shut. Black things were scuttling towards them from the direction Japan and Prussia had gone, and moving fast. He grabbed China's arm and started down the hallway they'd meant to take, seeing immediately they'd either have problems or safety in a few metres.

“Can you jump?” he asked.

“What?” China startled, then cursed. “No, not that!”

“Then hold onto me.”

“What do you mean, hold on!?”

Mattie moved his grip to China's shirt, pulled him against his side, and jumped the gap across the hallway as he reached it. They landed hard on the far side and rolled up against a crumbling side table, knocking a vase to the floor. Mattie pushed China off himself, then looked around.

The black creatures were at the lip of the hole, stuck on the far side. Not far ahead, there was a set of double-doors and a broken window; to his immediate right, at the end of the side table, was another door in the wall. Mattie got up and walked over to the broken window first. Just outside was Ukraine.

“Yekaterina!” Mattie said happily. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh! Mattie!” Ukraine turned and moved her body to block the window. “Don't try to come out, it explodes.”

“Who was inside?” he asked, more interested in that then the obvious traps.

“Litva and Pol'sca. Pol'sca was pretty badly hurt by the traps on the house, are you alright?”

“We haven't tripped another yet,” Mattie said. He glanced back at China, and found him studying the side door. “One moment.” He walked over to the door and eyed it, flicking on his Sight for a moment and scowling. He waved his hand over the door, then pulled it open.

The spells came apart in his Sight like cobwebs. 

“What was it?” China asked.

“There... I thought there was a trap, but it looked... it just fell apart.” He pulled the door all the way open and stepped through, shining the flashlight into all the corners. The room was a bedroom, and, when he tried the lightswitch, the light didn't even begin to sputter on.

“Perhaps the spellwork is simply old like the rest of the house?”

“Spells don't degrade in that way,” Mattie said. He handed China the flashlight. “Don't open or touch anything without coming to get me. I need to talk to Ukraine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to character death  
> Mention of abusive FACE family dynamics  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	31. Chapter 31

Gilbert found the stairs at the end of the hallway along the back wall and waved for Honda to follow him up. Honda followed him without comment, and Gilbert didn't ask him to talk, more interested in identifying where they were than the cause of casual silence. 

The staircase itself came up at the end of a hallway, with one door behind it. Gilbert walked over to check it out, then stopped as he saw a bullet hole in the wall. He reached up to touch it, impressed at the height, and realized it was fresh. He turned back to the ouside wall and tried to identify it's trajectory.

“What is it?” Honda asked.

“Bullet, a big one. There, that's the window it came through.” Gilbert walked over and pointed out the broken pane. He checked the hole in the wall again and squinting, guessing at which tree it must've come from. “Hah, I'll bet Finnland's up there.”

“He can see the mansion?”

“The annexe at least. I wonder if the window's open.” The catch wasn't hidden, but it was badly stuck. Gilbert forced it open and pulled the window up with a triumphant noise. “Hah.”

“I do not think you should be playing with that.”

“What, you mean because it's likely trapped?” He brushed his hand through the space under the window, wondering if he'd even feel it if there was one there. Nothing happened and he turned and shrugged. “Well, that didn't do it.”

“I suppose not.” Honda hovered with his hand over the doorknob to the room and sighed. “Perhaps we should see what rooms are already open first.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes and walked over to pull open the door. He jumped back from the doorway and looked inside. It was a plain office, the desk straight back from the doorway and what looked to be open space in the rest of the room. He stepped cautiously through the doorway and looked around, however the parts of the room away from the window were completely black.

“Do you have a flashlight?” Honda asked.

“Shit,” Gilbert fished in his pockets and scowled. “No.”

“Roshia would've said something, surely?”

“Depends on what he was doing here, but probably.” Gilbert backed out of the room and breathed a sigh of relief as he did, grateful to be out and not at all sure why. “Maybe we should ask Kanada or England to check this out later.”

“Later,” Honda agreed. 

Around the front of the stairwell was another hallway. Two doors led off in the middle – one into a room entirely black that smelled like rust and closed rooms, and a second containing a long dining room table that was growing moss in the middle under a broken skylight. There was a fraction of grey light coming in, enough to give a sense of the room.

“This place has been empty a very long time,” Kiku observed. “Likely it has not been lived in since the war.”

Gilbert nodded and finished walking a circuit of the room, noting very little worth attending to. There was statues on pedestals and a fireplace at one end, but nothing else of interest. Something in Honda's tone made Gilbert get up and sit on the table. 

“So, Kiku,” he said. “How are you holding up here? I mean, you're in a similar position to what was worrying Alfred and Feli earlier.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Honda said quietly. 

“Yeah, of course.” Gilbert snorted. “Because this is your city, your citizen's home, and your turn to host the G20 meeting – but you don't feel any responsibility for us getting stuck here, right?”

“I did not know it was here.” Honda crossed his arms and he shivered, his face turned away still. “I would have dealt with it if I had.”

“You'd have been stuck here alone; that's not exactly an improvement.” Gilbert laughed and shivered himself. “It wouldn't have done much good, I expect.”

Honda nodded slowly and looked his way. His eyes widened and he drew his sword with a shout. “Puroisen!”

Gilbert pushed himself off the table and hit the wall and turned. Behind him, the monster hauled itself out of the fireplace, turning a tooth-filled grin their way as it came. Gil turned and pushed Honda to the door. “Run!”

Honda ran to the stairs and down; Gilbert started to follow him only to see the floor run black with something unclear in the darkness. He stopped and turned, face-to-face with the monster, and darted under its arm and behind it. Something whistled through the air behind him but he didn't look, running to the end of the hall and turning up the far side of the house, dodging holes in the ground as he went.

The hallway wasn't that long. He passed one door and then saw the floor gape open a couple metres ahead. The far side of the hole was covered in inky black carapaces like those that had cut him off from Japan. He glanced behind himself, stopped and skidded over the edge of the hole.

He expected the fall; the floor below flashed past him without stopping, dropping him two stories instead of one. His breath went out of him in a pained rush and then something – something small, with sharp nails and a bite – dropped on top of him. Gilbert threw it off and wiped blood off his cheek with a snarl, slamming his fist into its head. The creature squirmed and disappeared beneath his hand.

Light shone down on him a second later, and Canada called “Prusse? Is that you?”

Gilbert coughed hard again and nodded, then added “Yeah, it's me. Honda should be downstairs in the other hallway; we got split up by the – those black things.”

“Yes,” Canada observed. 

The light explored the space he was in and Gilbert stood up cautiously, hoping stretching out his chest would help him breath more easily again. He rubbed his shoulder carefully and hoped it wasn't out, not sure he wanted to put it back himself if it was. Across the room, he thought he might've seen the edge of stairs. 

“Does that look like a way out?” Canada asked.

“Yeah, maybe. Does that table have candles on it?” Gilbert pointed and Canada flicked the flashlight to the candles in question, then around the floor as well. 

“Drag the table out of the circle first, then I'll toss you the lighter?”

Gilbert did so and went back to the hole to hold up his hands to catch the lighter in question. When he lit the candle, the room was thrown into dim view and he nodded. “Yeah, there's stairs. They go up to a door that should be on the far side of this, on the first floor. I'll meet you there?”

“Okay. Be careful.” Mattie called.

“Always!” Gilbert laughed. He considered how to get to the stairs, not knowing the spells on the floor, then shrugged and crossed himself with a brief prayer and went.

IIII

Yong-soo vanished the remains of the clock once Switzerland had smashed it, relieved that was over and hoping Austria would finally relax now that they'd found it – no thanks to him. 

“Now where was the next one?” Austria snapped.

“Wait,” Switzerland said. He pulled out his phone and Yong-soo turned away and did the same, needing any excuse not to talk to the aristocrat.

“Hánguó!” China answered. “What is it now?”

“I wanted to catch up on what's going on,” he said. “We found another clock finally.”

“Oh, I'm in the annexe right now, I can't exactly tell you how the rest have been...” his voice shifted away from the phone for a moment. “Yes, it's South Korea – we're alright here, yes. You don't need to worry.”

“I'm not worried,” Yong-soo growled.

“Südkorea,” Switzerland snapped, still on his phone. “Two more down. Türkei and Norwegen found them. Ungarn's at the annexe doors.”

“What was that?” China asked.

“More than half the clocks I sensed outside have been found and destroyed,” Yong-soo clarified.

“That's fantastic,” China said, then hissed loudly. “Pŭlŭshi, that looks terrible. What happened?”

Yong-soo muffled an annoyed noise as he listened in on the worrying and so on as Prussia swore he'd be healed in a few minutes. “Look, Yao –” 

His phone beeped and dropped the call. Yong-soo glared at the phone and hung up, turning to glower at Switzerland. “What did you get?”

For his part, Switzerland was also glowering at his phone. “Erika says the annexe can be escaped, but the entrances and exits all appear to be trapped. The front door especially is giving her trouble. What is going on with China?”

“They've gotten into the annexe. Peulangseu got some kind of injury but it doesn't appear to be of any concern. What else is going on?”

Switzerland pocketed his phone and shrugged. “Erika would like your help addressing the traps on the annexe.”

“We can do that after we've dealt with the clocks,” Austria said flatly. “We've found six. You said there was nine.”

“Yes,” Yong-soo bit down a grimace at that. “I agree. We need to finish with the clocks. Give me time to find them again.” He closed his eyes and exhaled, exhausted trying to reach spirits so far from home. He could feel Austria and Switzerland around him, Austria's energy flickering – he still hadn't moved from leaning on the side of the bridge – and Switzerland walking a slow circle around him until he stopped abruptly. 

“The monster's are back,” Switzerland said calmly.

Yong-soo recited a prayer rapidly and raised a shield around them. “Done. Be quiet,” he snapped and gave himself fully to the trance.

IIII

Arthur waited impatiently for Francis to come back from getting a drink of water. He had forgotten Francis was just as skilled at Anglo-Saxon and Japanese as he, himself, was, but admittedly he hadn't let Francis near his spell books – or, well, any of his books – since the start of his revolutionary period.

Still, it was taking longer than it could possibly have needed to had Alfred been here. He drummed his fingers on the table and tried to distract himself from the pains of withdrawal with anything else. The only thing around to spend his energy on was the warding on the room itself. He could get a sense of how it worked, and a sense that it was familiar, but without being able to see it properly he couldn't be sure.

“Inghilterre,” Romano groaned. “Aren't you done with that already? How long has it been?”

“An hour,” Arthur said flatly. “I would perhaps be done had I been able to see, but since I am relying on someone else to graciously read it to me, it means that the diagrams – which are required for me to understand – take much longer to convey and understand. I realize you have no idea how such things work.”

“It's your own fucking fault you can't see,” Romano added. His voice was closer, and Arthur began to worry that he had no idea where the Italian was. 

“Lovino, stop.” Antonio called. “You're giving me a headache.”

“I did not do this on purpose,” Arthur snapped. “I got the monster out of the basement, didn't I? We haven't run into it again. It's hiding because of what I did; I bought us time!”

“It's hiding – hah!” Romano scoffed. “That just means we have no idea what it's been doing! We'll see whether or not what you did was any good when we find out what it's going to do to kill us next!”

“I am recovering,” Arthur snarled. “I am not useless!”

Romano started to respond and was abruptly muffled. There was scuffing noises and Antonio murmuring something gently and Arthur smirked, knowing it wasn't likely something as pleasant as he could imagine but not bothering to stop the thoughts. Antonio, at least, he could feel when he slipped into the bathroom across the room just as Francis came back to him. 

“Are you ready for me to start reading again?” Francis asked.

“Yes.” Arthur rubbed at his eyes with a sigh, the ache in his body coming back as he tried to focus. Francis started to talk and it helped, his boyfriend's voice smooth and familiar.

“The spellwork on the ground floor changed drastically upon Canada's death,” Francis said, and Arthur realized why he'd needed water all of a sudden. “I studied the front door and realized that, where it had been locked solidly with spellwork before, it would take only minor unworking and perhaps lockpicks to get it open now. Along the back hallway, behind the bathrooms, there was a new door that didn't lock and led to a grandfather clock. The room had not been in any evidence, spell or otherwise, before this. The remnant spells opened at a death as well. There is a diagram,” Francis added, then began to describe it.

“The spell is shaped like a t-bar, with... four angles no more than fifteen degrees different from each other, in the notes. It's inside a seven pointed star. The notes add that it's a mobile spell, of the kind unaffected by a directional unworking as there is no sign of a harbour... Do you need more diagram description?”

“Not now, no.” Arthur sighed. “It means that a symbolic sacrifice would be required to open it without true death; that kind of minor guardian spell could be opened by a blood sacrifice to get past it if it had a harbour – a location to do it at.”

“What about the front door? Would a blood sacrifice open that?”

Arthur shook his head. “We'll see if he describes the original spell or not, but I can't imagine that it will be that easy.” He put a scold in his voice and Francis sighed and turned the page. He started to speak, then stopped.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

“I'm sorry, it's nothing.” Francis sighed.

“Nothing in this book is 'nothing' to me, Francis. Tell me.”

“He was crying when he wrote the next part, that's all.”

“Crying?” Arthur startled.

Francis simply began to read. “The spells didn't change after France died, so it's clear only one death is required to open the spells.”

Arthur stood up and stepped away from the table. He heard Francis get up and come stand behind him, winding his arms around his waist. Arthur leaned back into his chest with a sigh, not speaking and not trusting his voice if he tried. He had a pounding headache and wished he could see – wished fervently he could just force the house to give up its secrets.

“Should I read ahead and see if there's more description of the front door?” Francis asked softly. 

“If you want,” Arthur said. 

To his disappointment, Francis left, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his pains. He focused on his other connections, taking comfort from confirming they were still there. He could feel Francis and Antonio, short and near in the room with him; Matthew, Alfred, Ludwig and Yao were within reasonable distance for the building they shared. India was also nearby – and further, her more cooperative brother a fine thread, thicker than it would be were he home in Britain. His own brothers were filaments of silk, halfway around the world.

His bond to Kiku, new and flush with power and short was still strong enough to convey his emotions: alarmed, but unhurt. More frustrating, however, was that he had no connection to the Italies, or Russia or Prussia. He had no idea what was happening to them, and he didn't like that at all. 

Needing another distraction, Arthur found the shielding on the wall again and walked up to it until he could press his hands to the physical wall and feel the threads of magic on his palms. He ran his own magic into the pattern, as far as he could make his senses stretch, and tried to build a picture of the work from what he could feel. 

Within a minute he identified something distinct: runes – futhark runes. Runes mixed with latin characters, Latin language – it was a European's work, Nordic or Germanic. There was no sign of Japanese in the work, which was distinct from the rest of the house. He tried to identify the words, but he couldn't get enough details – worse, he was pretty certain the problem was language, not vision. The runes weren't used like the Anglo-Saxons had, and the only others who could possibly read futhark in the house right now were Prussia or Russia. Neither of them did magic like this. 

Would General Winter? Arthur didn't think he was human enough to bother. Everything he'd seen General Winter do was destructive – and violently destructive. Precision was beyond him. Arthur hit the wall with a fist lightly, wishing he could just see and know something about it for sure. 

“Don't you dare beat your head through the wall, Arthur.” Romano snapped. “We can't fucking waste our energy trying to wake you if you concuss yourself.”

Arthur jerked away from the wall, ripping his magic out as he did and getting back more than he'd put in. He stalked back to the table – where Francis sat – with a growl. “I was not going to. Don't speak of things you don't understand.”

“You're one to fucking talk!”

Arthur walked into the bench, cursed, and snapped, “Antonio, put a muzzle on your pet.”

“Lovino, come sit,” Antonio said, his voice shaken.

He found Francis' shoulder and stepped over the bench to sit, turning to kiss Francis on the mouth in satisfaction, wishing for a moment it was Antonio instead – someone who actually listened to him. Francis didn't respond, then, a moment later – when Arthur's connection to him told him Antonio was back in the beds – Francis pushed him back and punched his shoulder. 

Arthur jerked back and slapped him. “What the Hell was that?” he snapped.

“Do not kiss me to gloat about hurting my friend,” Francis hissed. “I have told you what happened to bring them back. You know he's scared of you.”

Arthur bit back a couple responses, swallowed, and smiled. “I'm sorry. You're right, that was rude.”

Francis let out the breath he'd been holding, swallowed and slid an arm around his shoulders to hug him lightly. “Are you wanting to work on the journal again?”

“Yes, of course.” Arthur leaned against Francis' shoulder. His lover dropped his arm to hug Arthur's waist, and carried on reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of past character death  
> Warning for abusive FACE family dynamics  
> No other content warnings for this chapter


	32. Chapter 32

Ludwig was following Alfred and Feliciano on the search for the front door key when he felt a nagging urge to return to the saferoom. He rubbed at his forehead and tried to focus on the task at hand, but the thought immediately came back. He told himself it was nothing and the light in the room they were in suddenly went out.

Alfred groaned. “Oh for fuck's sake. This wasn't the room anyways. I'm sorry Feli, I thought I was more sure than I am.”

“No, no, it's okay!” Feliciano waved his hands and rubbed at his face. “I know it's hard to remember them all. We can move on to the next, it's okay.”

Ludwig left the room first, and compulsively glanced down the hallway. They were on the second floor, not far away from the saferoom itself, but he didn't want to leave them if he didn't have to, not even for only that long. 

Feliciano and Alfred came out behind him, then went up to the front hallway and halted. Alfred had to decide which direction they should go – the door to the left, or to the right. He moved the mochi from his shoulder to his hands, then back to his shoulder and chose the left, disappearing into the room. Feliciano started to follow him and Ludwig stopped.

“Feli,” he tried. “I think we need to check on the saferoom, just for a moment.”

“We need to find the key.” Feliciano stared at him. “What's wrong? We'd have heard if something went wrong, we're not that far away.”

“I have a bad feeling.”

Feliciano's face fell and he shifted from one foot to the other. “Ludwig, please. It'll just be another few minutes.”

Ludwig hesitated and his breath caught in his throat, sudden panic almost strangling him. This wasn't how it normally worked; his anxiety wasn't that bad, hadn't been that bad since they first came. He shook his head and turned and walked away, his breath coming easier as soon as he started down the hallway. Feliciano tried to call him back, but – it was just the end of the hallway. He'd be right back.

He opened the bedroom door and stepped inside, dropping his hand off the freezing door handle immediately after. He stared in horror at the monster hunched in front of the iron door. 

“No!” Ludwig reached for his gun and touched the whip first. The hesitation cost him, and the monster moved faster than he could see. It threw him into the wall and pinned him there. Seconds later, a rush of heat swamped his body and the monster screamed and vanished. 

With it gone, Ludwig tried to move forward only to drop bonelessly to the ground. He couldn't get up. He knew he was bleeding, but he had no idea how badly. His chest felt hot and wet, but everything hurt and he couldn't seem to catch his breath to call out.

Nobody had come down from the saferoom. They were all on the same floor. Why hadn't anyone heard? Surely Feliciano had. They had to come check on him soon.

Right?

IIII

As soon as Alfred flicked on the light in the room, he realized this was it. He started to talk, but Feliciano was still at the door with Ludwig. Instead, he went to confirm he was right while they spoke. There was a dresser and side table along the front wall. When he bent down, the mochi hopped off his shoulder to the top of the dresser. The drawer on the bottom left was stuck. 

Alfred grinned and jammed it to the far side to pull it out, checking and finding the bent edge he expected once he got it.

“Alfred, are you alright?” Feliciano asked. He had come just inside the door, glancing back into the hall over his shoulder.

“Yeah!” Alfred said. “I just had to get the drawer open. I broke it so you have to do it a certain way, you know?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” 

Feliciano didn't sound convinced, but Alfred wasn't offended. He dug under the papers in the back, some that might have been familiar, and found a heavy metal key. He pulled it out with a triumphant grin. “This is it, right?”

Feliciano licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

Alfred shut the drawer and stood up. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know how well it will work,” Feliciano said gently. “I'm not sure if we try...”

Alfred remembered his flashback to General Winter at the door and the memory just – ending – and nodded. “You think the door's trapped, and that the key won't open it.” He glanced down at it in his hand, and there was no magic on the key – nothing. 

Nothing that would disarm the door if it wasn't ready to open.

“Nothing goes well until someone dies.” Feliciano agreed. “And then, after... everything's just easy. If we tell them we have it, they're going to want to focus on that and try, and...”

“It's not actually that hard to convince a spell someone's died without killing anyone, Feli.” The mochi tried to strain off the edge of the dresser to grab the key again, and Alfred picked the creature up and put it on his shoulder again.

“But if it's easier if someone does, would Arthur take that route?”

Alfred shook his head, stroking the mochi. “If we start talking about who should die to get us out, Arthur knows more than half of us here would volunteer him for it. I'd be more worried that China would just – shit!” 

A shock of cold air crossed through his body and Alfred looked around frantically; the mochi shrieked and fell hard off his shoulder. The shock hit him again, then the hazy, half-formed figure gestured madly at him to go out the door.

“You need – saferoom,” the ghost said. The voice rose and fell, but his tone was clearly upset. “The wards – hides sound! Come –” 

Alfred ran out the door and across the house. Feliciano yelped behind him and kept up, his breath turning into sobs. Alfred didn't wait for him – if the wards protecting the saferoom were down, more people were at risk than just them.

He abruptly realized he hadn't seen Ludwig in the room, then he threw open the bedroom door and that answered his question. Ludwig was there on the floor, lying in a pool of blood. 

“Feli! Ludwig's hurt!”

Feliciano pushed him aside and dropped to his knees by Ludwig, breathing too hard to speak, much less sing. Alfred ran to the iron door and grabbed the railing by the stairs.

“Lovino, get down here! France, give me the grimoire!”

Arthur and Francis both started to shout at him, but Lovino appeared at the railing first. He glanced at his face and half-fell down the steps.

“What happened?” he snapped.

“Ludwig's been hurt, Feli's too upset to heal him,” Alfred said. 

Lovino pushed off his chest to run out into the room. Alfred almost started up the stairs, but Antonio was coming down next.

“Francis, get me the goddamn book now!” Alfred shouted. “Ludwig's dying!”

A moment later, Francis tossed Arthur's small bag down to him. Alfred turned to lean on the doorway and flip through the book, glancing at the Italian brothers as he tried to remember where Arthur's healing spells even were. Romano had Feliciano's hands in his own and was talking softly. Feliciano's breathing had calmed down and, finally, Romano started to sing. 

Alfred heard someone come down behind him and threw his arm across the doorway as Feliciano's spell start to take shape. It was moving slow – slower than Alfred was used to Feliciano's magic working – but it was there. His hackles prickled, worried it would be too little, too late, but as the spell carried on it curled around Ludwig in a way it wouldn't if he died. 

A minute, maybe two, later, and the song finished. Ludwig gasped and struggled to rise off the floor. Feliciano started to cry again, tugging Ludwig into his lap. Romano, across from him, turned and let his boyfriend pull him to his feet. 

Alfred put Arthur's grimoire back in its bag and handed it to Francis behind him. “Thanks. I wasn't sure Feliciano could do it when he was that upset.”

“It is no trouble,” Francis smiled tiredly. Alfred hugged him, watching as Ludwig sat up properly and started to fumble out of his torn and blood-stained shirt. Alfred wondered cynically how long until they all ran out of clothes: Ludwig's shirt was completely ruined. His pants might be fine after a rinse, but that was unmanageable if the monster attacked them here again.

Shaking off the thoughts, Alfred walked over. “Hey, Ludwig. What happened?”

“I had a bad feeling,” Ludwig said. “I tried to explain, but – it was bothering me badly enough, I thought I'd just come see. The monster was at the door to the saferoom, trying to get in, when I got here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw movement and turned. In the closet, the ghost was pointing upstairs furiously, over and over again. 

“That son of a bitch, I knew he was fucking around!” Romano spat.

“What?” Alfred asked.

“That fucking bastard was doing something to the wall the minute François let him wander off on his own, and now the monster's found this place? I know he fucking did it!”

Alfred cursed under his breath. “Francis, Antonio, can you two get your weapons and defend the door so we don't get trapped here like downstairs? And call Mattie and tell them to come back; we need to discuss what to do next.”

“Even though they haven't found Russie yet?” François asked.

Alfred stared at him. “If the saferoom's not safe anymore, we've got much bigger problems. Out of all of us, I think Ivan's the most likely to be safe on his own.”

Francis nodded and told Antonio to wait while he retrieved their swords. Alfred went up behind him to stand across the table from Arthur.

“What happened?” Alfred asked.

“Take two steps back, then walk over to the wall to your left.” Arthur said. “Tell me what you see.”

Alfred stepped back and did what he said, staring at the pattern in front of him. He could see the loose threads where the wards had been pulled apart, but he quickly got distracted by how incredibly detailed the wards themselves were. The only wards he'd seen that compared were Arthur's own work back home; the mansion's wards didn't even come close.

He bit his lip. That wasn't what Arthur was asking of him. He picked out the main image used in the work and began to describe it. “...there's a branched circle, with eight lines coming out, equal angles between them. There's runes around the small, inner circle, then three segmented circles around it halfway out. The ends of the lines have three points.”

“But you don't know the runes,” Arthur said with certainty.

“No,” Alfred shook his head and turned his way. “Why?”

Arthur turned a piece of paper around and held it up for him to see he'd drawn a very basic form of the same image. “Is this what you're seeing?”

“Yeah, it looks like that's the base, or some form of it.”

“It's an Icelandic stave – the Helm of Awe, some call it. Mostly Scandinavian, but the ideas travelled into Germany and northern Russia. It's meant to inspire fear and drive people away, and it's very easily adapted for these kinds of spells.”

“How did that get here?”

“Is there a small halfmoon with a staff through it anywhere in the marks?”

“How small?”

“About a fingernail size.”

“We don't have the time for me to find it,” Alfred snapped. “What was so important about these wards that you had to try and see them like you did? You know how clumsy you are seeing things with magic! You risked everyone's life with that stunt!”

“And how did we know we were safe here anyways?” Arthur snarled. “We don't know what these wards do at all! Why are we trusting our lives to them in the first place?”

“Because they've worked for almost three days to keep us safe!” Alfred stalked over to the table. “Why must you always feel like you're needed? Wasn't the book enough to keep you busy!? Did you get nothing done?”

Arthur looked down at the table again, his hands clenched in front of him. “I know we need to open the spells with a symbolic sacrifice, and I know how to find the clock room Italy spoke of to turn back time.”

“Good.” Alfred moved around the table and sat down next to him, flipping through the journal himself.

“The cross is the clock spell;” Arthur explained tersely. “Six pages after it is the front door, but it's not complete.” Arthur replied. 

Behind him, by his ear, Alfred heard quietly, “Do not tell him I'm here, but he is correct in who he thinks I am.”

Alfred didn't reply to the ghost; didn't respond at all. He glanced up in time to see the figure go back to the wall and gesture irritably at the torn parts as he started to repair the damage. Alfred wasn't sure if he was comforted by the assurance or not. Arthur had had little good to say of the other magicians in Europe, and Alfred had never been able to figure out if that meant they were better or worse than Arthur himself – much less in what regard that meant.

From what he knew of Europe, the difference was likely academic regardless.

IIII

In his flight from the monster, Kiku had gone downstairs and hidden behind the first door he came to. He found himself in another bathroom. Breathing a prayer to any spirits there, he hid inside a cupboard and waited, holding his breath. There was a soft scurrying sound, and Kiku realized with a thrill of terror that he hadn't heard the door open.

He didn't know what was making that noise. 

The scratching of claws remained in the bathroom for several long minutes. He tried to guess what and how many of them were exploring the room around him, but gave up after identifying half a dozen or more. The scratching claws left without investigating the cupboard in which he hid, but Kiku could not bring himself to leave his hiding place. He could only picture the creatures waiting, still and silent just outside the door and did not know what he could do if they were.

Some time later, he heard voices outside the room. Cautiously, he pushed open the cupboard to find the bathroom as dark and empty as he'd found it. He straightened his clothes and glanced around, confirming as best he could he was alone, before he left the bathroom.

A door across the hall was open, and the lightbulb inside on and working. He caught sight of Canada and relaxed. 

“It's me,” Kiku called and walked in.

Canada and China were there, with Prussia looking a little worse for wear than when Kiku had seen him last, scuffed and bruised with a scabbed over scratch on one cheek.

Prussia looked up and beamed.“Hey! You're okay?” 

“Yes, I am, thank you.” Kiku smiled in relief. “I'm glad you are as well.”

“Hah, yeah.” Prussia ran a hand through his hair. “I took a fall, but it turned out okay. Kanada and China were right there and made sure I got out okay – there's a second basement here, by the way. Not sure if you got a chance to see it. Where did you go?”

Kiku flushed. “There is a bathroom across the hall. I went in and hid. Something – something came in behind me, but didn't find me. It sounded like it was small with many claws...”

Canada hissed. “Those things. Yeah, they're all around here. They didn't find you?”

Kiku shook his head. “I hid in a cupboard. They went right past me and didn't appear to notice. Did any of you find Roshia?”

“No,” China sighed. “But we've had little chance to search properly yet. We came this way to look for you.”

“Chine,” Canada said abruptly. “Do you think this would span the front door?” He patted the heavy wooden counter.

“Pardon?” China startled. “What is it?”

“That hole – we need a way to span it. I think this would work, the floor joists are intact, it's just the parts between that – excuse me.” Canada's phone rang and he answered as he paced the length of the counter and switched from Japanese to French. “Bonjour, François, what did you need?”

Kiku glanced at Prussia where he was staring at Canada. “What is this hole?” Kiku asked softly.

“I haven't seen it either,” Prussia said.

Canada stopped in mid-step. “What happened? How bad?”

“Kanada?” Prussia asked. 

Canada held up his hand for silence. “Is everyone else back? We'll be there in a few minutes, then.” He hung up and shook himself. “Shit.”

“What was it?” China asked.

Canada switched back to Japanese to answer. “Something Arthur did weakened the saferoom's protections, and they're not sure it's safe to stay there anymore. Allemagne was attacked outside the room by a monster trying to get through the doors – he's fine, Prusse, don't run off.”

“He's my responsibility!” Prussia snapped. “We're going back.”

“Without Russia?” China asked.

Kiku pressed his hands to Prussia's chest to stop him rushing out the door. “Everyone is back?” Kiku asked cautiously, but he stepped aside as Canada and China started towards the door as well. 

“Yes, they are. We can come look for Russia again after we talk through what to do next.” Canada agreed. “We're right behind you, Prusse.”

Prussia led the way back into the annexe basement they'd come from. Kiku followed him cautiously. They came out in the annexe library and Japan studied it for any sign of the monster. There was nothing. The papers hadn't moved, the room stayed cool but not cold and not hot.

It should've been a relief. 

It wasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for this chapter.


	33. Chapter 33

Erszébet was walking a half circle from the North to the East when she caught sight of something moving in the trees. She stopped, staring, until she heard Roderich's strident voice. She raised her halberd and waved. Switzerland waved his gun back and turned to address his companions. Roderich turned away from South Korea to speed up towards her, leaning heavily on his cane. 

“What's the situation here?” Roderich snapped.

Erszébet turned to South Korea. “Erika wants to speak to you about the front doors,” she said. “Go.”

He scoffed at her, but went over to Erika without argument. Roderich watched him go and mumbled something uncomplimentary in Yiddish.

“Was he that bad?” she asked.

“No.” Roderich flushed. “I'm tired and cross, and he does not care what I think.”

“So he was that bad.” Erszébet glowered at Korea's back. She touched Roderich's shouder lightly and smiled. “What about the other clocks?”

“They're all to the North or West.” Roderich leaned into her hand and scanned the lawn, before he started towards a bench.

“Don't.” Erszébet sighed. “It's got some spell on it as well.”

Roderich swore and leaned heavily on his cane. “Can you get me something, then?”

Erszébet immediately reached home for a stool, only to feel something closing over her wrist. She persisted, then jerked back when she started to feel burnt, the stool in hand – or so she thought. When she checked her arm for damage, she found the bottom half of the stool was charred, and one leg sheared off.

“Erika,” Erszébet called mildly. Fortunately the skin of her arm was only a little reddened; the stool had gotten the worst of it. “We have a problem.”

“What – oh my God!”

South Korea swore and came over. “What happened?”

“I was trying to get something from home,” Erszébet showed them the stool. “It hurt, but I thought it was just difficult, not that it'd – well, that.”

“Is the house gonna try and eat all of us now?” Feliks swore. “We can't even Step?”

“Apparently not.” South Korea took the stool from her hands and ran his hands over it, his expression distant. He glanced at Roderich, then handed it back to Erszébet. “There's nothing else wrong with it, at least, so if you even up the legs he can use it.”

Erszébet nodded shortly and put the chair down on its side. She braced it with one foot and chopped off the charred ends with her halberd before sitting it back up. “Sorry. That's the best I can do. Let's have you sit by Toris and Feliks, so everyone's in one place.”

She waited in case Roderich wanted help walking that much further, but he didn't reach for her as he passed. She put down the stool, planting it firmly and staying nearby until he was settled and eyeing the mansion with a cross look. 

Erszébet sighed and leaned on her halberd nearby. “So we're waiting for the Scandinavians and the rest to find the other clocks?”

“Yes,” Roderich said. “One's by the Nordics, and the other two are well within the region afforded to Türkei and Griechenland, and sadly none of them are suited to finding magic, much less getting along with others.”

Erszébet grimaced. “They said they'd be fine.”

Roderich glanced at her dryly. “Südkorea plans to check on them again if they haven't found the clocks in an hour and perhaps send Norwegen that direction if need be. Finnland, if he stays where he is, is well-placed to cover the windows along the left side of the mansion if that's an easy route for those inside to use to get to the door.”

Erszébet perked up at that and walked over to the mansion itself. Switzerland was hovering by Erika; past them, Yekaterina was still guarding the broken window. She tossed a smile Erszébet's way as she approached.

“Hey there, what is it?” Yekaterina asked.

“I need someone to scout the windows along the North wall of the annexe. Would you and Natalya do so? I'll get Switzerland to watch the window in your stead.”

“I think so. What are we scouting for?”

“I need to know if that's a viable route for those inside to take to get from the back of the building to the front, and what might get in the way of them using it. Finnland can cover the wall, but I want to be certain that's the best place to use.”

“Alright, certainly.” Yekaterina smiled thinly. “We'll go.” 

“Good.” 

Erszébet turned around again and walked back over to Switzerland. She glanced at Erika and South Korea, but the two were in a heavy debate over the notes in Erika's book, including several gestures at the door and words Erszébet had never learned in German or, she suspected, any other language for that matter. 

“Svájc,” she said.

Switzerland glanced at her. “What is it?”

“I need you to watch the window while Ukrajna and Belarusz scout the North wall. If someone inside comes up, I need you to warn them not to try and leave by it; the window overhead explodes.”

Switzerland raised both his eyebrows at her and turned back to Erika, hesitating and then going without interrupting. Erszébet glanced at what they were studying, but it was mostly writing with a few line diagrams that made no sense to her at all. 

She looked at the front of the house and thought, if not for the spells, she could rip the building open like the shell of a crab or tortoise. Unfortunately this was more like trying to rip open a tank or a grenade – perhaps it would work, but more likely it would crush her or explode first – and it'd take her and everyone inside with it. 

Frustrated, she turned back around and smiled at Roderich. He took a second to shift from his distraction to smile back. He looked drawn and tired, but there wasn't even any point in telling him to go. Better he rest now; if they could get this done before sundown, he'd be happy. She could get him home in time for his sabbath and spend the next day resting without feeling like he had a duty to do anything at all. 

She went back to walking the perimeter before she distracted him more. She heard Litvania excuse himself to Feliks and saw him take up the path Natalya had been walking opposite her own.

Everyone was as together as they could be. They just had to wait on Erika and South Korea, and everyone inside.

IIII

When they got back to the saferoom, Mathieu found François and Spain were leaning against the wall by the iron door. He waved to François and got a brilliant smile in return.  
“Mathieu! Ah, I am so proud, you got them home safely! I knew you would.”

“He's a good kid, François, you know that.” Prussia walked up to his lover and kissed him on the top of his head. François startled and wound his arms around him with a nervous glance at the stairs. 

“Thank you for taking care of him as well, mon cher,” François added. “Did you find any sign of Russie?”

“None.” Prussia frowned a little. “We'll go look for him again.”

“Oui,” François agreed.

“Is everyone else upstairs?” Mathieu asked.

“Yes,” Spain said. “Someone needs to stay on guard down here, but I'm fine doing it myself.”

“I as well,” François added.

“I'll stay here with you two,” Prussia said. “Three's better than two.”

Mathieu nodded to François and slipped upstairs, Japan and China at his back. He'd barely crested the top of the stairs when Arthur started in on him.

“What did you find?”

“Nothing much,” Mathieu retorted. “What happened here?”

“There's wards on this room,” Alfred said quickly, as Arthur turned away and drummed his fingers on the table. From the expressions of everyone else in the room, Mathieu had a good idea of why Alfred was taking control. “Arthur tried to look at it, but he damaged them and the monster noticed and tried to get in. It didn't do more damage, but it knows for sure where we are now.”

“Shit.” Mathieu came around the table to touch Alfred's shoulder, then hug him. 

“If the monster only knows where we are, are we certain it can get in?” China asked.

“Do you remember the problems we had in the annexe basement?” Romano snapped. “We're going to be dealing with that all over again, except this time it'll be right outside our door!”

“And if it knows what room to work on, it can do the same thing to us we're trying to do to it: bring down the wards.” Alfred added. “We can't stay here. We know our way around the annexe now, we should be able to get there and maybe force our way out.”

“There was a room in the basement that Prussia found he thought Arthur should check out,” China added. “Do you want to try there first? It might be like what you called the white room with the piano, a kind of hub, and if it's tied to the spells on the annexe...”

“What are our options for getting out from the annexe?” Arthur asked skeptically.

“The rest of the Nations outside are trying to force the double door open,” China replied. “The floor in front is badly damaged, but Jiānádà has some ideas on how to get around that.”

Mathieu made an agreeable noise. “If you want to go into the basement while someone helps me disassemble the counter in the kitchen, that would work well.”

“We should stay as a larger group,” Alfred said. “We can't afford to split up, we're vulnerable.”

“The basement will be dangerous to pass through in such a large group.” Mattie objected.

“We don't really have that much choice.” Alfred shrugged. “We all have to get through. If we set people to guard front and back, we should be okay.”

“And if it tries to fireball us?” Romano asked dryly. 

“I can still manage a shield spell,” Arthur snapped. “I'm not useless.”

“He said no such thing Arthur,” Japan said gently.

Mathieu noticed China about to speak and glared at him. China looked away, then spoke.

“If that's all we need to thrash out, we should be going now. The longer we wait, the more chance the monster has to set up another trap.”

“Has everyone eaten this morning?” Romano asked. Mathieu looked up and saw him staring at Feliciano's hands instead of the rest of them. “There should be something left we can have before we go.”

China turned and walked into the kitchen to check, but came back and shook his head. “Not really. There's little left, and it got overcooked at some point and is dry in the bottom of the pot. We'd have to scrape it out. If we're close to done, we shouldn't need much else to eat before we make it out, and if we do we can always come back here.”

“We'll have to come back,” Mathieu said agreeably. “This room is more defensible than anywhere else in the house.” 

Everyone started getting ready to go. Mathieu went over to Alfred and had to touch his arm before he got his attention. 

“What is it?” Mathieu asked.

“I'm sorry, he's talking to me again – the ghost,” Alfred said. He was staring at a point along the wall. “He's going to try and fix the wards to make it forget, and then try to expand them to include the bedroom outside. I'm not sure he has the energy, but it should be fixed in a few hours – at least the basic stuff – by the time we might need it again.”

“That's good,” Mattie said. He took Alfred's hand and squeezed it. “We'll be okay. This place is more than good enough. He should focus on what's worked so far.”

“Yeah!” Alfred grinned, then scrambled to his feet as he looked around. “Right, we need to go. I'll help you downstairs, Arthur, don't worry.”

Mathieu walked away. He went into the kitchen and pulled a couple empty bags out of his backpack to fill them with food that could be eaten as is – licorice and the dried blueberries, for the most part. 

“Are you quite done?” China said.

Mathieu shouldered his bag and walked past him down the stairs without responding. He waited at the bottom for China to follow, then folded up the staircase behind him, tucking the string inside the lip as he did so.

“Why bother?” China asked. 

“Magic works best when the physical is conducive to what you are trying to accomplish.” Mathieu shrugged. He glanced around the closet and didn't add that it would make it hard for the monster to damage the staircase or arrange an ambush if it got inside. They didn't need to give voice to their troubles where the monster might hear.

Paranoid, perhaps, but he intended to get out of this alive.

IIII

The moment Feliciano had gotten down the stairs, he threw himself into Gilbert's arms and didn't let go. Antonio tried not to laugh as Gilbert stroked his hair and whispered comfortingly in his ear. Arthur came down with Alfred and a moment later, Antonio's phone rang. He didn't look, just answered it.

“Digame?”

“Is Gilbert ignoring his phone?” Erszébet said crossly. “I've been trying to call him.”

“Huh,” Antonio frowned. “Hey, Gil, where's your phone?”

Gilbert startled and stepped back from Feliciano to check his pockets. “Fuck, I don't know. I think I lost it.”

“He can't find it,” Antonio said into the phone. “He must've lost it when he took a fall in the annexe. What did you need to ask?”

“How clear is the path from the back of the house to front on the Northern wall?”

“Dunno, what do you need it clear for?” He pulled the phone away form his ear and switched it to speaker. “You're on speaker now, Hungria.”

“Finnorzság has a perch on the North side of the house and, as far as he could tell, he could cover you if you go that way – but I want to know if that seems honestly the best path or not.”

“There's more holes in the floor on the South hallway, yeah.” China said. “Pŭlŭshi fell straight through them both.”

“It wasn't that bad!” Gilbert protested. “I'm fine, I swear to God...”

“Is the hallways open to the outside on the South side?”

“No,” Gilbert said. “There's a greenhouse, that little garden, and a bedroom in the way; the North wall's got all the windows.”

“Why on earth would someone do it that way,” Arthur muttered. “You wouldn't get anywhere near the light...”

“What greenhouse?” Mathieu asked. “I don't remember it.”

“Huh? Oh, I could see the roof from upstairs,” Gilbert said. “It's the second half of the storeroom.”

“If we're all here we should get moving,” Alfred said. “Is that all you wanted to ask, Hungary?”

“Yes, I think so.” She hung up, and Antonio pocketed his phone again. 

“Good,” Alfred sighed. “I'll take front with Spain and China, if Arthur can take the back with Japan and Francis?”

Antonio saluted lightly to Gilbert and François and walked to the door out, checking up and down the hallway before Alfred caught up and did the same. Once he cleared the way Antonio started out, checking to see that everyone was filing after them.

They were. Antonio tried to smile, but as he followed Alfred down the ladder into the annexe basement, all he could think was that everything was going remarkably well.

Too well. 

Nothing happened to them in the annexe basement, or coming out into the hallway upstairs. Antonio kept on point with Alfred until they came to the door into the basement they sought.

The room was pitch dark, with no windows in evidence except a patch of grey light on the far side of the room that must've been where the hole in the floor was. Between the two flashlights they had, the room was checked for threats until Alfred could remember how to cast light. A blue-green glow lit everything.

There was a lot to see. The room lit up to reveal white chalk writing on the greying wooden slats and up the walls. The middle of the circles were stained black. The stairs down had no railing, and along the wall to the left was a line of wooden doors.

“Well, if anyone wondered if he did magic the way Opium does this should settle it.” China said dryly. 

“The stains really aren't that bad,” Alfred said. “It's okay, everything's inert, just don't bleed on a circle or smudge the marks too badly.” He walked around the edge of the largest circle in the middle of the floor and Antonio followed him until he could escape into the far corner where Gilbert must've come down. Japan stayed by the door holding it open; once Arthur was inside and had been handed off to Alfred, Gilbert and François came over and joined him.

“What are you looking for?” Gilbert asked.

“Your phone.”

“Oh, right!” Gil laughed. “Maybe we should have a flashlight.”

“I really don't see it.” François said. “Are you sure you didn't lose it before you fell?”

“Maybe,” Gilbert bit his lip. “I can't think where, though. Sorry, that sucks.”

“We could try calling it?” Antonio suggested. 

François started to pull out his phone, but got distracted when China raised his voice.

“That makes no sense at all. Rìbĕn – Make Jiānádà watch the door and get down here!”

Antonio turned as Japan came down the stairs with a patient look. “What is it?”

“Your kanji are impossible – what do you think that line up there says?”

“Feliciano, may I have your flashlight?” Japan asked as he passed the desk he and Lovino were investigating. He walked over to where China was standing and shone the light on it. Antonio glanced around the rest of the room, but not much else was happening. Alfred and Arthur were talking, their heads close together, apparently completely oblivious to the argument China and Japan were having. Gilbert sighed quietly in annoyance.

Japan sounded out the words, but Antonio didn't have the knowledge of Japanese to translate it that fast himself; China immediately objected. 

“That makes no sense, look, it's missing the line to be –”

“It's just how he wrote the character,” Japan retorted. “He did the same over here, the line blended into the next, if you didn't focus only on that one you could see –”

“He didn't do it over here!”

“What are you arguing about?” Alfred finally asked, exasperated. 

“What do you think this line says?” China asked, clearly eager for another opinion. 

Gilbert made another exasperated noise and walked over to join them. Antonio shrugged at Francis where he was staring at his phone and wandered back to the hole in the hall above.

“God that's so high...” Alfred grumbled. “Can you even read with it flattened out like that? I'm not sure I can see it that well, what do you think it even says?”

“It's talking about blood,” China said. “We can agree on that word, yes Rìbĕn?”

“We are not arguing that it's talking about blood, yes, but I think the next line is supposed to refer to the soul – ”

“Where do you even get that from?” China objected. “It's not even close to what it's saying!” 

“I'm reading the rest of the writing, not trying to derive this from a single line!”

“It's not even part of the active spellwork in the room,” Alfred tried. “It's forming the circle tying the room to the rest of the house, it's just a – something that reflects power back into the room, you guys. It's not that big a deal.”

“Why don't you two copy down what you think you're seeing and compare?” Arthur suggested.

“It says 'the value of blood is highest with respect to pain',” Gilbert said. “Does that help?”

Antonio blinked and turned away from the hole. “Hey Gil, I think I found your phone!”

Gilbert jumped and started his way. “Really? Where was it?”

“Ah, yes, it's here,” Francis said. He started towards Antonio and pointed, his own phone sliding into his pocket. “I saw a light.” 

Anotnio slipped his hand into his pocket to reach through his pants to the knife on his thigh. “Do you remember going over there? It was tucked in the corner.”

As soon as he came even with François – off the circle – François spun and drew his sword. Gilbert dodged backwards with a curse. Antonio grabbed his shoulder and cut his throat, dumping the body away from the circles. 

“What the Hell?” Mathieu screamed. “François!” 

The rest of the Nations turned their way as Antonio knelt to check he was dead.

Alfred ran over. “What did you do that for?”

“That wasn't Prusse,” François said. 

“He's right there!” China shouted.

“You barely knew him.” François snapped. “He didn't try to see Venise, he ignored him speaking to him,”

“He couldn't read that better than China or Japon; he couldn't do as well as America.” Antonio wiped his fingers off on Gilbert's shirt, trying to hide that he was shaking. It couldn't have been him; if it was, they couldn't have afforded to depossess him. It hadn't been Gilbert. He'd done the right thing. 

“He spent years building the Meiji government!” Alfred retorted. “He can read kanji way better than me, dammit!”

“He can't see that far, though; he's near-sighted, isn't he?” Mathieu had come down from the door to join them. “Can I see something?”

“Go ahead,” Antonio said.

Mathieu crouched and picked up Gilbert's arm to cut off the gauze bandage. It came away clean, with no sign of an injury beneath.

“He healed it; that's all.” China snapped, but his face was shaken. “He's always been that strong.”

“There's no stitches,” Mathieu said. “I used thread; he couldn't have healed that out, not this fast. They'd be on the bandage if he had. There's nothing. It wasn't him.”

There was absolute silence.

“We got split up,” Japan said softly. “Upstairs, in the dining room.”

“I ran into him just after that,” Mathieu said. “When he fell down here. He was at the door across the room not a minute later.”

“Then Japan was alone longer than Prussia was,” Arthur said simply.

“By that logic, Germany was alone the same amount of time,” Alfred pointed out. “A lot of us have been alone, we can't check everyone.”

“The monster's been unusually quiet since the spell Arthur used in the basement,” Mathieu said. “Probably it decided to change tactics then.”

“Can it replace more than one person at a time, though?” Alfred asked.

“If it's replacing people, what did it do with him?” Lovino snapped. “If it didn't just possess his body, where is he?”

“We can search the room once we're certain everyone is who they says they are.” Alfred said. 

“I can vouch for everyone but Russia, Prussia, and the Italies,” Arthur replied.

“I want proof from someone who isn't you,” China snapped.

“You were alone after Russia ran off,” Arthur retorted. “Who will vouch for you, then?” 

Alfred grabbed China's arm and dragged him into a corner before he could reply to Arthur's taunt. Antonio didn't try to listen in on them, worrying silently he watched Feliciano cling to his brother across the room. A minute later, Alfred came back with China.

“Assuming people trust me not to have been messed with,” Alfred said, “what with me not being alone since then, I trust China's not been replaced.”

“What did you do?” Arthur asked crossly.

“I asked him something I'm dead certain I never said here in this house before now, no matter how many times we got scared into panicking stupidly.” Alfred glared at him. “Is there anyone who can do that for Japan?”

“I can,” Ludwig said. “Honda...”

Japan looked like he almost wanted to say no.

“Kiku, does anyone else here know you that well?” Alfred asked tiredly. “I'm not sure what I'd ask you.”

Japan turned and walked across the room with Ludwig, even though he looked like he was walking to his death. Antonio didn't pity him; knowing someone you went to war with was part of being a Nation. If it was Lovino verifying who he was, he knew it'd be the same kind of questions. Some wars none of them spoke of casually; their only use was for scares like this.

It was vaguely alarming that he felt this kind of problem was normal.

“Couldn't we just have looked to see who had magic on them?” China complained.

“There was nothing obvious on him,” Alfred said. “I saw him, remember? I was looking right at him with my Sight on and I didn't see anything. Now maybe I could've while he was still alive if I looked harder, but now, he just looks dead to me, even if I focus.”

“Can Ludwig even verify this? He was alone as well,” François asked.

“Ludwig was healed immediately after,” Lovino snapped. “You can't hide that from a healing spell, you see them inside and out. If there was something weird going on, we'd have found it.”

“If talking to an imposter could fix this, how come you two didn't notice this sooner?” Arthur snapped.

“Sooner?” Antonio spread his hands. “When? In the five minutes we had discussing this house waiting for you to decide what to do, or in the five minutes it took us to get here, or the ten minutes he spent with three people who didn't know him? I thought he was worried and upset when he was ignoring Feliciano, and then he did something Gilbert physically cannot do.”

There was a strangled sound from the corner and Lovino cursed, kneeling as Feliciano collapsed and started to sob. Antonio swallowed and glanced away. He looked at his feet and swore.

“Madre de dios, he's gone!”

Mathieu cursed and raced to the door and threw it open. It slammed open and Mathieu looked up and down the hallway before subsiding against the doorframe, the scare over. They weren't trapped.

“Why did we follow him here? It was his idea to come!” China snapped.

“Because you believed him, you fool,” Arthur snarled, “like you always believe people like him!”

“Both of you, shut up!” Alfred shouted. “It wasn't even Gilbert who told us; we agreed because you and Mathieu had seen this place too! It was an obvious choice to see if this was important or not; it's not, so we need to figure out what we can do to get the rest of us out alive!”

“We're not going.” Feliciano stood up, his voice oddly calm. “We have to find Gilbert.”

“Dont' be ridiculous;” Arthur snapped. “He's dead, Italy, don't belabour the point.”

Antonio turned to glower at Arthur. “Unless you know the spell used requires it, we don't know that for sure.”

Arthur hesitated. “Technically it's easier to do spells like that if he's still alive, but now that we know he was using that face, it's not necessary anymore.”

“If he's still alive, we need to find him.” Feliciano repeated. “Could he be in here?”

Antonio walked to the wall of doors and start to force them open; François went to the far end to help. Three of them opened easily; the rest were stuck. 

“Alfred!” Antonio called. “Get these open.”

“Two are trapped,” Alfred said. “I... I think if you cut them open you'll be far enough away.”

Antonio gritted his teeth and hacked into the door, cutting out the door handle and pushing the doors in with the end of his axe. Alfred shoulder-checked the third and fell inside the room with a yelp. He scrambled out and fell on his ass outside.

“Anything in yours?” Alfred asked.

“Nothing,” Antonio shouldered his axe. “What happened?”

“There's a spell I hadn't noticed on the room until I got the door open. It's just a warding that keeps spirits out.”

Antonio stepped back to eye the wall again, wondering if they were missing something. “Do all the rooms have that?”

“I think so.” Alfred walked into a few and scowled. “Well, no. Only the ones still locked shut have it; the others seem to have lost the spell.”

“Then a few of those rooms would've been safe from the monster?” Feliciano asked.

“Yeah, if he got into them when attacked.” Alfred said. “I mean, if it locked him in after, it'd have worked good for it, but then how'd he get out?”

Feliciano wrung his hands. “I'm not leaving him.”

“And if he's dead?” Arthur snapped.

“Would the main house have registered if he died here?” François asked. 

Everyone went quiet. 

“I... don't know.” Alfred said. “Maybe. Arthur?”

“I don't know. I don't know what spells cover both annexe and mansion both. If it has registered a death, we could say for certain he's dead, but if not...”

Antonio swallowed, but he didn't have a better suggestion. If Gilbert wasn't down here, they were back to where they'd started, only this time it was two Nations lost in the annexe rather than one.

“If he's dead, we can get out can't we?” China suggested.

“We're not leaving without Prussia,” Feliciano said, his voice flat. 

“Surely –”

“No, China,” Alfred said. “We're not leaving him.”

Antonio started towards the stairs without waiting for further argument. Feliciano led the way, Lovino at his side. It didn't matter if the rest agreed with them or not.

He wasn't leaving without Gilbert either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Yes, I headcanon Austria as a Jewish convert and also as physically disabled for those wondering what's going on with him. I need to come up with other things to write him in, but ah well.


	34. Chapter 34

Feliciano ran his fingers across Ludwig's palm, up his fingers and then down between them to squeeze his hand. He folded Ludwig's hand shut over his own and then opened it, starting over again as Arthur snapped at Alfred and Alfred cussed him out right back.

They were at the front door. It was still solidly shut, the spells the same as before. 

He had no idea what had happened to Gilbert.

No one else was speaking above a whisper. France and Spain were standing together, facing the back of the house. Lovino was guarding the hallway to the main basement and the bathrooms. China and Japan were watching the hallway to the kitchen and the stairs both and pointedly not speaking to each other. 

Ludwig was shivering as he clung to him in return. Feliciano wasn't sure which of them was more useless at the moment. Everything felt hazy, and not in a good way. 

“Then it's definite that it hasn't registered anything,” England concluded.

“He might still be alive, yeah,” Alfred said.

“Assuming the relevant wards extend to the annexe, which we cannot confirm,” England added acerbically.

“So this was a complete waste of time?” China groaned.

“No, it wasn't,” Alfred snapped. “We know – for certain – that the wards didn't notice him die. Confirming we don't know for certain is something, God dammit. We just have to find another way to check.”

Feliciano flinched and tapped Ludwig's shoulder. Ludwig glanced down at him, and Feliciano gestured for him to get Lovino's attention. His throat had closed again, now that everyone had come back to the mansion, so he signed to Lovino to speak for him.

Lovino nodded to him. “Feliciano wants you to open the clock room, Arthur.”

“You'll waste everything we gained this time around!” Arthur snapped. “We're closer to getting out than we've ever been!”

“We're still missing Russia,” Lovino said without prompting. “Nobody could find any sign of him. Has anyone outside seen him in the annexe?”

There was an awkward silence. Arthur snapped at Alfred to start a circle in the front entry. Feliciano watched them for a minute and thought an apology to Alfred before he buried his face in Ludwig's neck until it was over.

Not long after, a rumbling growl rolled through the house. Arthur grunted, then made a suddenly pleased noise. Feliciano turned to eye him. Arthur looked almost triumphant.

“That must've been one of the last clocks!” he exclaimed. “Once I get more vision back, I'll be able to make a real dent in this place.”

“What do you mean?” Lovino asked suspiciously. 

“There's enough ambient energy, I can – nevermind, none of you care.” He sat back and looked consideringly at the circle. “Alfred, you're giving me the angle wrong. I told you there was a three degree tolerance, not a five degree one.”

Alfred scowled. “I thought you said 'when' you could see?”

Arthur scowled. “Yes, I did. I cannot see out my own eyes, but my – what do you keep calling them? – imaginary friends got through some of the gaps in the warding caused by breaking the clocks.”

“Great, more faeries.” Lovino groaned. “Do any of them come with beer and rice cakes?”

Feliciano got Ludwig to get Lovino's attention again and gestured rudely at his brother. Lovino flushed and turned around to watch the hallway. However, without Lovino's help, Feliciano had no one left he could talk to until his throat stopped choking him. He leaned heavily on Ludwig's arms and watched Arthur and Alfred finish the circle. Once they finished, America pulled a knife and cut open his arm to bleed on the circle. 

Arthur jerked back. “I was going to do that.”

“You don't have the magic in your blood to light a candle, Arthur.” He stepped back and held the cut shut until it healed enough to stay closed on its own. There was a jolt Feliciano could feel as the spell took. It did not feel good at all.

“Well? What did it do?” China asked.

“I think the door is over by the kitchen.” Arthur said.

Feliciano skirted the circle and walked past China and Japan. He thought it would be in the kitchen at first, until he saw the door had appeared in the front wall. He pushed it open and stared at the grandfather clock at the end of the room, his vision blurring with tears.

He'd never wanted to see this room again. If he'd been stronger, more together... if he hadn't let them go to the annexe, if he hadn't almost died... If he'd just died when he'd planned to, they'd be out of here by now. 

They just cared about him too much.

“Feliciano,” Ludwig said softly, touching his shoulder. “What do you need to do next?”

Feliciano turned and looked behind himself, seeing everyone but Spain and Arthur in the room with him. He swallowed and held out his hand to America and signed for his keys.

“What is it?” America asked.

“He wants your keys,” Lovino said, then clarified. “Key, singular. Do you know what one he means?”

“Oh that one.” America pulled his key ring out and offered the house key to him. “What do you need it for?”

Feliciano took the key and cradled it in his hand, rubbing at his eyes with the other.

“You need to decide one way or the other,” China said crossly. “We have to do something. The longer we stand here the more likely it is something will go wrong. If we go around again, this is just going to get worse. Do you think it will go better next time now that its found the only safe place we have?”

“Oh shut up,” Lovino snapped. “If you hadn't lost track of Russia and Prussia both –”

“It's nobody's fault!” Alfred snapped. “If we can get everyone out alive by trying again, we should still try!” 

China scoffed. “It will just learn new ways to kill us! What if it replaces someone else next time, like Russia? Would any of us even be able to tell?”

“Prusse could,” François retorted. “All of us have been close to two or three others, we have centuries of things to pick from!”

“We'll lose them piece by piece, then!” China snapped. “Because you forget that it's gotten two secrets from us now!”

“If you aren't going to be saying anything useful, why don't you get out?” Lovino snarled.

Feliciano couldn't make himself step forward. They were right – they were all right – but... he couldn't leave him here. If they could find... find his body, he could take him home and bury him in Sanssouci...

He'd known it was coming, after all, unless Gilbert got another chance again. He'd survived by the skin of his teeth every other time. To lose him now...

The door behind him opened and it sounded like those outside had joined a fight.

They were all going to die. What would another try change? It kept getting harder.

Ludwig stroked his shoulders and Feliciano leaned back into his chest, his eyes swimming with tears. He closed them and couldn't stop crying.

“Where's Mattie?” America asked. “He's not here.”

“Great, now someone else has gone and gotten themself killed!” Lovino cried.

Feliciano's knees gave out and he dropped to the ground. Lovino cursed and came to kneel beside him as Ludwig pulled him into his lap.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Feli,” Lovino babbled. “I didn't mean it!”

Feliciano let the key slip from his hand and wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck, pulling himself into his arms. He couldn't decide. He couldn't make the choice. It was too much; just too much. He wanted Gilbert back; needed him back now.

He just needed to know.

IIII

By the time they had determined that the mansion hadn't registered a death, Mathieu realized nobody was hearing or seeing him anymore; not even Alfred. He tried to reign in his temper, to settle down his magic, but it wasn't responding to him at all.

One thing he did know, however, was that the monster was as affected by this as everyone else. Mathieu turned his back on them and went back to the annexe. He checked he had four arrows in the clip on his crossbow and scouted the first annexe basement fully, because he hadn't ever seen it all before. There was nothing of note, magical or otherwise, and he carried on into the annexe itself.

Perhaps he was being a fool, but if he disappeared they were no worse off than they were with Prussia and Russia both missing already. If they turned back time, it didn't matter if he was there or not. 

This time, when he went through the annexe, Mattie intended to check every room Gilbert might have passed on his way to the room in question. The bathroom Kiku had been hiding in had few hiding places other than the cupboards Kiku had used. Dawn was slowly filling the rooms with grey light that made his flashlight unnecessary for anything but the darkest shadows. 

When he turned on his Sight, Mattie blinked tears from his eyes and had to close them right after, rubbing the ache away. He backed out of the room and stood in the darkness until his eyes relaxed. The room had been heavily spelled, but it looked like someone had ripped down sheets of glowing cobwebs and left them strewn across the floor.

He hadn't turned on his Sight in the sunken room. The monster was as good at hiding things as he was at hiding himself; Alfred and Arthur could never see when he did it, but Mattie had several tricks to see things they didn't.

They hadn't found the room under the front door.

Mathieu bypassed the sunken room to glance into the room by the front door from above. To his disappointment, it was empty, but as Mathieu glanced up and down the front entry, he realized he'd seen six doors to rooms obviously the same size, and there was space enough for eight. If this room was one, what about the other?

Alfred hadn't said what the traps on the rooms did. 

Mathieur hurried back to the door and threw it open and froze.

Eight doors were visible. One was open, but there was a visible shine of warding in place across the door. In front of it stood the monster, a mass of small flat creatures clustered around its feet. Mathieu quietly pulled his crossbow free and quietly shut the door. He stepped to the edge of the staircase and checked the desk pressed up to the side of the stairs. He hadn't checked if it was sturdy or not. He was regetting that now. 

He fired at the back of the monster's head, then fired again as it turned to face him. He hit the sweet spot and the large monster vanished. The hoard of small black creatures to surge towards the stairs. Mathieu dropped off the stairs onto the desk and pressed himself into the wall, holding his breath as the creatures raced up the stairs and out of the room through the closed door. None returned to find him. 

When he had heard nothing for a count of thirty, Mathieu got off the desk and jogged over to the open door. It seemed the ward keeping spirits out worked on that room as well. Inside, Mathieu saw what the traps had been. Prussia was hung by the neck, his right arm trapped under the rope around his throat. The force had ripped open the bandage and stitches on his arm, and blood still fell in slow, fat drops off his elbow. 

“Prusse?” Mathieu called. He leaned on the ward and got shocked. He jerked back and cursed. “Fuck! Prusse, answer me?” 

Prussia gave no sign he'd heard him, but the same magic that hid him from the monster could hide his speech. If Prussia was dead, he wouldn't still be bleeding a half hour later. That he knew for sure. He couldn't know what other damage had been done until he could get him down.

He stepped back to see what part of this ward was keeping him out, only to see, from the corner of his eye, the flat black creatures creeping out of the room next to where Prussia was trapped. He held very still as they began to swarm back over the floor. Soon the floor was nearly covered in them and a few were sniffing his ankles in confusion, clearly unable to tell if he was there or not. The monster itself wasn't back, but Mathieu didn't trust that to last long. 

He took a look at the room with his Sight and shook it off, certain he couldn't work that out while trying to keep safe like this. He turned and walked carefully away from the door, stepping around the creatures as he went. They seemed aware of him, but only distantly. Two started a fight with each other behind him as they ran into each other, and Mathieu hurried as the path between himself and the desk cleared again. 

He jumped quietly onto the desk and dumped his backpack to one side. He opened it to have access to all his quarrels easily, then shouldered his crossbow. He aimed at one of the creatures. The quarrel took it just behind the head, and it vanished. The other creatures began to mill around in confusion, then calmed. Mathieu carefully aimed and fired again, slowly thinning out the pack. The creatures were starting to flee in fear, but none were able to find him.

He kept half his attention on the door overhead and when he heard it open he froze, slowly loading the next quarrel. Two of the monsters came down the stairs. The floor was littered with crossbow bolts, and the flat creatures swarmed the larger ones as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Mattie wasn't sure if he was still invisible or not; the flat creatures seemed a bad judge of that. Would they notice what he'd done? His disappearing worked less well on physical evidence he'd left behind.

One monster stepped on a quarrel and stopped, turning to look at it in a very human gesture. Mattie watched it look around the room, once, twice. It stopped, facing him, and Mattie fired into its head. It vanished, and the second monster rushed straight at him.

Mathieu dropped his crossbow and hauled himself up the side of the stairs. The desk shattered beneath him. He ran out the door, turning hard to the left into the front entry. He glanced back to confirm the monster was on his heels, the floor turning black in the dim morning light beneath its feet. The gap beneath the front door was too wide to jump, and too long to avoid at his speed. If he tried to change direction, the monster would be on top of him. 

He kept going forward and ran up the wall to rebound off the door onto the far side of the gap. He took two steps past it and his legs collapsed beneath him, his muscles frozen and shooting pain up his body. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered into the nearest wall, hearing someone shout at him from the window. He didn't look; couldn't talk. It took all he had to stay upright. Prussia was still trapped downstairs.

A gun fired behind him and someone shouted his name. Mathieu waved over his shoulder, grateful his arms were still okay, and reached the hole in the floor of the hallway. He dropped through it, rolling once he came down and coming up on one knee, drawing his knife in the same motion. The small black creatures swarmed him. They jumped on him and bit and scratched, but he got the knife through their necks, one after another, ignoring bites and scratches until the swarm was gone.

Mathieu stretched his legs shakily and found they felt at least a little better. He hoped it had just been temporary and would keep fading. He got up and walked unsteadily to the ward again. He poked his knife through the ward. There was no reaction. He went back to the desk to retrieve his backpack and crossbow, still intact, and went back to the room. He aimed at the rope holding Prussia up, and shot him down. The sparkling in the doorway disappeared. Mathieu dropped to his knees at Prussia's and cut the rope off his neck and arm so he could finally heal him.

The pains from his legs came back and fought with his concentration. He forced it out of his mind until Prussia woke with a gasp and a curse. He sat up and fell onto Mathieu's backpack, as Mathieu himself tried to turn his attention to his legs to no use.

“What the Hell?” Prussia snapped.

“There's water in my bag,” Mathieu said. 

Prussia sat up and struggled with his shirt instead. Belatedly, Mathieu remembered he wore a binder. He got to his knees to help Prussia pull his t-shirt up so he could unlace his binder with shaking hands and breathe more easily. Prussia left the ties undone and jerked his shirt back down before he turned to fish out the water bottle.

After he'd had a drink, Prussia asked “What happened?”

“The monster stole your face,” Mathieu explained. “Antonio and François noticed when it got us back here, but the room you were in was hidden. Italy thinks you're dead.”

“Shit.” Prussia pushed himself up to stand and lean on the doorway, dropping the water bottle with a curse. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket and snarled at it. “No reception.”

“We should go.” Mathieu stood again and had to brace himself on the wall, realizing with dread he'd sprung a trap on the front door. It hadn't matured yet, but he couldn't budge the pain in his legs that was slowly turning numb. “Neither of us is in shape to fight the monsters if they come back.”

“Do you need your backpack?”

Mathieu crouched and fished out the bullet clips left for his and Alfred's guns. “We can come back if we have to.”

“Where's the others?”

“In the mansion again. Italy won't escape without you, and he thought you were dead.”

“Shit,” Prussia offered him a hand and Mathieu felt bad enough he took it and leaned on him for support as they ran up the stairs. Prussia touched the doorhandle, then pulled back without opening it. “It's outside.”

“Open the door and stand back.” Mathieu loaded the crossbow and aimed at the exit. Prussia watched him, then pulled it open on his cue. 

Mathieu gasped. “Shut it!”

Prussia slammed it shut/ Mathieu turned and stumbled on the stairs. Prussia grabbed him around the chest and ran. He returned to the room they'd been in before and dropped Mathieu to the bed. Mathieu forced himself to stand and return to the door to watch the stairs. The door hadn't opened again.

“Get me my quarrels,” Mathieu said. “We need them.”

Prussia didn't argue. He darted out and snatched them up off the floor, dumping them through the door by the handful. He'd gotten most when the door was thrown open. Prussia threw himself back through the door, then turned.

Four of the monsters came down the stairs, with maybe twelve low black creatures scurrying around them. At the top of the stairs, a young Japanese man stared down at them, his eyes shining black and half his face and shoulder burnt. Mathieu loaded the clip for his crossbow, the weapon itself lying on the bed, waiting.

Prussia was glaring at his phone again. “Fuck.”

“Still no reception?” 

“Yeah.”

“They were working on the spells guarding this door before. I think the trap was giving them the most trouble.”

“So if we wait here, they'll just crush us?” Prussia said. “And if we don't get out, Feli thinks I'm dead anyways.”

“Yeah.” Mathieu sighted on some of the little creatures, but if he incited them too soon... “You can run for the door, I can distract them here.”

Prussia laughed and cracked his neck. “You still got that bowie knife on you?” he asked.

Mathieu stared at him, but drew it and handed it over. “Do you want me to take out the little ones?”

“That'd help. Are the other rooms like this too?”

“The ones with with broken doors, yes. The others don't have any magic left.”

Prussia smiled broadly, his face shining with vicious pleasure. “Pick your shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mention of hanging.  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Sanssouci is where Frederick the Great (Old Fritz) is buried, and was his summer palace and favourite estate.


	35. Chapter 35

Mint Bunny was a pressure and heat against Arthur's palms. Having her back was an immense comfort after the misery of the past two days. She rubbed her head against his thumb, over and over, as he stroked her cheek in return. 

He wasn't interested in standing inside the room with Italy and the others. He wouldn't leave them, but he didn't need to hear Italy's agonizing over his boyfriend. If Italy had any sense, he'd leave things alone, but no one was interested in Arthur's opinion on the question. Besides, Italy was still the Republic of Venice in the end: the only people who mattered to him were his brother and Prussia, who everyone thought had been killed.

Well, it would impress Arthur if the monster had managed to kill him. Nothing else ever had. 

The door opened and Francis spoke.

“Antonio, how is it here?”

“Quiet,” Antonio said. “How's Feliciano?”

“Crying again.”

“Of course he is,” Arthur muttered.

“Would you leave him alone?” Antonio snapped. “We weren't talking to you.”

“Francis is my boyfriend before he's yours.” Arthur glared in their direction.

Antonio snarled and Arthur ran his fingers over Mint Bunny's ears as he tried to 'see' them through her eyes. It was a distorted image, not very clear – rabbit sight was not easily translated to human – but he could at least see something.

It was draining, but worth it, as behind Antonio and François he saw the monster coming up the hallway. Mint Bunny felt his reaction and tore out of his hands in fright. 

“Idiots,” Arthur snarled. He stood up and pulled out his grimoire as Mint Bunny landed on his head with a squeak. Antonio cursed and François' sword hissed out of its sheath. He felt them move to either side of him – outside his effective spell range – and Arthur opened his grimoire to a spell he'd had in mind since leaving the annexe.

There was another grumbling roar that rattled the house and Arthur smiled broadly as ambient energy flood the hallway around him. He curled his fingers around it and sketched the sigil in the air to prepare. 

“You get your own face back,” he snarled. 

The spell came off his fingers in a rush of words before Francis or Antonio could move. The spell hit and fought the monster's shields. Arthur's smile dropped off his face as he was forced to pour more magic into the spell, energy he didn't have. In the end, however, the monster lost and Arthur heard it stagger in the hall.

“Madre de dios!” Antonio swore.

“Merde!” Francis gasped. “What did you do?”

“It can't change shape anymore.” Arthur answered, distracted as the drain hit him. “Why?”

“It's human!”

Arthur scowled and tried to see through Mint Bunny's eyes again. He only got a blurry sense of a smaller, dark shape gesturing before she hid behind his neck. Arthur threw up a shield on reflex. The monster's spell reflected off it and sent him to his knees as the shield broke, the strain too much to handle.

“What happened?” Alfred shouted. 

“The monster tried to attack,” Antonio said. “Arthur...”

“Are you alright?” Francis asked. Arthur felt his hand on his forehead before Francis pulled him to his feet. “Is it the drain or something else?” 

Arthur wasn't sure if it was him or Francis shaking. He buried his face against Francis' neck and tried to relax as the weakness spread. He was spent and in pain, as if he'd never slept at all. The rest of the group inside the room joined them, and Antonio was stuck answering the same questions over and over again. Finally Lovino cut everyone off.

“What did he look like?”

“He was a young adult,” Antonio said. “Japanese, wearing Western clothes – black pants, white shirt and black vest.”

“And he can't change back?”

“Not until he breaks my spell,” Arthur answered. “That won't be easy, it's built with traps and snares in the works. If he's even close to my skill, it will take him an hour to undo it.”

“He was burned as well,” Francis added. “Arthur reflected his fireball back at him.”

“Are you burnt out again?” Alfred asked.

“I'm fine!” Arthur snarled, but it was useless. Alfred could most definitely tell. However, he would be fine. This had been important.

“But the monster definitely can't turn into one of us again?” China asked.

“We have an hour,” Alfred said, his voice tired. “Italy needs to rest; he hasn't had a chance since he woke from the coma. The saferoom is safer than most rooms, Ludwig, maybe you should take him back there. The rest of us can try one last time to find Russia and Prussia in the annexe. If we can't... we can always come back here.”

“Alright,” Ludwig agreed. “I'll wait there.”

“If someone finds something, call Germany or someone outside to report it alright?” Alfred continued. “We'll meet again in an hour, back at the saferoom. Do you understand?”

Nobody gave clear verbal agreement, but Arthur heard them walk away. When the hallway was mostly quiet, Arthur stepped away from Francis.

“Do you wish to go back to the saferoom and rest as well?” Francis asked. “You'd be able to sleep.”

“I don't want to sleep. I just need to catch my breath.” Arthur ground his teeth. “Then we should go back to the annexe. I know I missed things when we were there before.”

“Come sit.” Francis took his arm and guided him to the staircase. Arthur sat and Mint Bunny settled on his lap once more. Arthur stroked her ears and realized he could still connect enough to see through her eyes if he was touching her. He rested both hands on her sides and stared, the spells on the door easily visible through fae eyes.

Arthur pulled out the journal and shoved it into Francis' hands. “Write down what I tell you.”

“Arthur, you need to rest.”

“I will rest when I am dead,” Arthur growled. “I'm needed now. I can still do this.”

IIII

The sun was finally rising when Toris called for her attention. Erszébet shoved her phone into her pocket and went, sighing in relief when she saw what it was.

“Dánia, Norvégia,” she called. “It's good to see you!”

Denmark waved happily back. “It's good to see you too! How have you been?”

“It's been quiet. Unnervingly so.”

“Tell me about it.” He laughed. “We ran into maybe four of the things; the way they were talking, I expected at least a dozen.”

Erszébet nodded tired. “Where's Svédorzság and Finnorzság?”

“Still up the tree,” Denmark said. “Timo's staying put until we tell him to come down, and Berwald wouldn't leave him. Hviderusland and Ukraine stayed to protect them both. Børre wanted a look at the door, in case he could help.”

Erszébet glanced at him and Børre nodded to her politely and walked over to the argument between Erika and South Korea.

“Any news from inside?”

“Nothing.” Erszébet pulled her phone out again, but reception had been gone since the last rumble of a broken clock. “We're close; when Dél-Korea checked last, Törökország wasn't far from the clock.”

“So you said.” Denmark glanced around with a frown. “You're more exposed than I thought.”

“Svájc's by the window, in case someone else comes by.” Erszébet glanced at Roderich again, but he was leaning his chin on his cane and staring at the front doors as though he could force them open by disapproval alone. He looked better for having rested. “Feliks and Toris went into the mansion and are healing.”

“So you've got you and Svejts in a disaster and that's it?”

“We can hardly call Ukrajna and Belarusz back with the phones down.”

“Okay, true.” Denmark grinned.

“I will not ask someone I don't know to do that here, of all places!” South Korea shouted. “Are you mad?”

“Unless you want to find an animal, we have little choice!” Erika retorted.

“Excuse me,” Erszébet said. She walked briskly back over to the mages. “What's the problem?”

“They are discussing how to raise power,” Norway said mildly.

“Are we talking about blood or something?”

Erika shook her head. “We'd need more blood than would be practical unless we could slaughter an animal. We could use pain, but –”

“You will not do that on a spell I helped you create,” South Korea snapped.

“So the best option is sex,” Erika finished bluntly. “Unless someone can find us a deer, we need two volunteers.”

“There's no animals in sight; I was looking.” Norway glanced at Denmark, then to Erszébet.

Erszébet scowled at him. “There was signs of animals when we first arrived.”

“Either we scared them off or the monsters did.” He shrugged. “Nothing's moved since then.”

“Alright. Why two volunteers?” 

“It's best if we could have mutual orgasm, close together.” Erika shrugged, as South Korea took another step back. She gave him a frustrated look and carried on. “A couple who knows each other well would be best.”

Her tone was apologetic. Erszébet looked at Norway again. She hoped she didn't look as desperate as she felt, but the soft nod she got in response told her she'd failed.

“Hey, Tarben,” Norway called. 

Denmark turned away from studying the forest and smiled. “Yeah?”

“We need to raise energy. Sex, in public.” He turned back to Erika. “How much space do we have?”

Erika gestured and Norway eyed it a minute before shrugging. “We have ten feet to move in, and hope to God nothing interrupts. You up to it?”

Denmark walked over and eyed the circle skeptically. “What's the catch?”

“If you can both orgasm as close together as possible, that'd be best. And if you can take up to twenty minutes or so to do it, it'll be better.” Erika said, her tone as blunt as if she were asking them to drive her to the store.

“That won't be that hard to hold off on,” Denmark muttered. “Are you sure about this, Børre?”

“I'm sure.” Norway glanced back at Erszébet and she nodded, unsure how to express her gratitude. He nodded back and started to undress, and Erszébet turned back to check on Roderich. He frowned at her as she came up, concern in his eyes.

“What is it?”

“They're raising power,” she said simply. “I hope you can stand watching the sex.”

Roderich reached over and took hold of her hand. “I think I can. What's really bothering you?”

She shook her head, not wanting to talk about it here. “How's your hands doing, Feliks?”

“Basically healed.” He smiled back at her and flexed his fingers. “I'll be up to fighting whenever the stupid things show up.”

“Maybe you should take watch and let Toris rest,” she suggested. “He's looking tired.”

“Shit, you're right.” Feliks got to his feet and caught up with his boyfriend as he neared the corner of the house. 

Erszébet slid her arm around Roderich's shoulder, staring as the spell begun, Tarben and Børre standing naked in the middle. 

“When are the others coming back?” Roderich asked.

“Soon,” Erszébet said, knowing it was a lie. “Once we can call them again.”

“Ungarn!” Switzerland shouted. “Movement in the trees!”

“Over here too!” Toris added.

Erszébet brandished her halberd. “Roderch, go stand by the circle.” 

Roderich stood up and pulled his gun with a glare. “I don't need to go that far,” he growled. He backed up, behind her, but didn't retreat as far she'd like. He fired and one of the monsters vanished.

There was three more behind it.

“I need you to try and get through to Belarusz!” she shouted. “We need her here!”

She couldn't look to see if he'd listened. She slammed into the monsters with a battlecry and held them back from the building spell.

IIII

Kiku went into the annexe to find Prussia, knowing he owed him this. He never should've lost sight of him. The only place he could think to start was the last place he'd seen him: the dining room on the second floor. He went as quickly as he dared, jumping at every noise and one hand always near the hilt of his sword.

He needed to have quiet, even if only for a little while.

He needed to not think about the memories Ludwig had made him relive.

A short search of the annexe basement assured him nothing would jump him as he went up the stairs to the annexe proper. He drew his sword before he entered the hallway. 

It looked different in the grey dawn. The walls looked more dismal than before, the paint and wallpaper peeling, and the exposed wood grey with age. In the light, the deterioration of the floor was even more obvous than before. Kiku went cautiously to the staircase, then up, looking around warily as he went. The office door behind the stairs, which he remembered Gilbert leaving closed behind them, was standing open.

“I would not suggest you go there.”

Kiku turned and fell into a fighting stance on reflex. Russia walking out of the dining room, his hands raised lightly in the air. His pipe was nowhere in sight, likely tucked inside his coat. His clothes were nowhere near as pristine as he had started out, the wool coated with dirt, moss, and black stains. 

“Someone narrowly avoided tripping the wards there before,” Russia continued. “I have not finished there yet.”

“Been where?” Kiku asked. “What have you been doing here?”

“I had work it was best I did alone. You would have been in the way.” Russia began to walk forward until Kiku raised his sword higher. “I do not wish to fight you, Yaponiya. Why are you so tense?”

“What did you do to Puroisen?”

Russia's expression did not change, but his tone became less composed. “What happened to Prussiya?”

Kiku shook his head. “I will not explain. Fight me, or get out of my way. You have never won against me before.”

Russia slowly blinked his eyes and then smiled. “Of course Yaponiya. I did not wish to detain you. Please excuse me, I just wish to get by.”

Kiku glanced behind himself and backed up the hallway to give him space to pass between him and the stair railing. Russia walked past him and into the far room, humming faintly to himself. Only once he was out of sight in the room did Kiku walk into the dining room where he'd lost track of Prussia.

The room was freezing cold; the brick fireplace and moss both were edged with frost. The chairs around the table had been thrown across the room. The décor around the walls had all been smashed to pieces.

Kiku rushed back into the hallway and ran into China as he came up the stairs. 

China cursed and grabbed his arms. “What did you find?”

“Roshia's one of them! The room – he made the dining room cold!”

“Éluósī and the cold, aru?” China said, his eyebrows raised. “Whatever would cause that?”

There was a roar of noise and a body slammed into the outside wall, shattering a window. China shrieked and Kiku jerked free of him to see what had happened.

Russia picked himself up from the broken wall as pale grey smoke drifted out of the study he had entered moments before. A hollow bang echoed from the room and the smoke died. The air smelled faintly of charcoal before it cleared away. China cursed and ran over to grab Russia's coat sleeve.

“What on earth do you think you're doing?” he demanded.

Russia replied to him in mumbled Russian, and China switched languages to reply without pause.

“You do not need to do any such thing! Why are you here? You left very suddenly, you said nothing to me about this at all! Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“It was needed.” Russia sat up more, staring at the open door. “The house is... was... very dangerous. I am making it less so.”

“We've been in and out of here several times!” China scoffed.

“Yes, after me.” Russia gave him a level look. “I still have several rooms yet to do.”

“There may be no point. We've lost track of Pŭlŭshi.”

“What happened? Yaponiya did not say.”

Kiku stalked downstairs rather than listen to them discuss it yet again. He turned into the kitchen and scowled. The counter top that had so interested Canada waited in front of him and Kiku tried to lift it, curious if he could get it to the front door himself. 

Perhaps he could not find Prussia, but he was not going to be idle.

IIII

Yao ignroed Japan as he stormed off and stood to frown down at Russia. “You did not need to do this for us. We were fine.”

“You did not see the worst of it.” Russia leaned forward onto his knees. “I would like to finish without interruption.”

“If you wish, but it may be undone anyways if this gets reversed yet again.” Yao pursed his lips. “Perhaps you should come see what is in the room where we lost Pŭlŭshi? If you are breaking traps, perhaps you can answer for certain if there is one he fell victim to there.”

“If he was caught in a trap, he is dead.”

Yao groaned loudly. “If we can at least be certain of it perhaps everyone will calm down! We thought you were dead as well!”

Russia shrugged, but he obligingly got to his feet. “We can go see this room. I have done everything small now.”

“Good.” Yao led the way downstairs, hoping that wherever Japan had gone to sulk was nowhere near their route. Russia's footsteps were heavy behind him, and Yao wondered how tired he was if he had been thrown around by nasty spells all morning.

Regardless of his exhaustion, however, Russia still passed him and reached the door first. He hesitated at the doorknob, then stepped back to stop Yao approaching. 

“Winter would like to go first,” Russia said.

Yao didn't question it. When Russia drew his pipe sword, Yao followed suit and waited. 

The door shivered, frost forming on the handle before it cracked off and slammed open. Someone screamed, and the door was kicked shut. Someone inside the door fell hard. Laughter that made his hackles rise was suddenly very audible, followed by a screamed “Deus lo volt!” and gunfire.

“Watch out!” Canada shouted.

Russia kicked the door open and ran down the stairs. Yao stopped to look for the person who had fallen just inside the door. There was no sign of them on the stairs or the floor; the only humans visible were Russia and Prussia in the midst of three monsters. The gun fired again and Yao saw Canada tucked against a doorframe. 

“Excuse me,” Japan said. He passed Yao to run down the stairs and join the fight, and Yao followed. He glanced a second time at the crushed desk beside the stairs and saw a flash of white shirt. 

Yao changed direction to investigate the corner and ducked as a fireball lashed over his head. He turned the curk into a roll and came up with his sword first. It went through the man's stomach and the man gaped at him, eyes black from end to end. He punched at him and Yao jerked his sword free, dodging from a strike that shattered the stone floor. The man snarled and threw another fireball at Yao's face. Yao dodged a second time and the man ran past him faster than he could see. 

“Rìbĕn!” Yao shouted, but Japan was too far away. The man fled out the door and Yao joined the immediate threat of the fight against the monsters on the floor. 

He ran one of the monster's through from behind as Prussia dodged out of its reach and felt the weight of the strike on his sword. He wrenched the blade free and it collapsed to its knees, wounded and bleeding clear fluid. Prussia slammed one of his short blades into the monster's forehead and vanished it with a shout. 

“Fuck yes!” Prussia crowed. “You're late! What the Hell kept you guys?”

“Behind you!” Yao shouted.

Prussia turned and slapped the monster's claws aside using his off-hand sword. He kicked it in the face as Russia cut across its back, then stepped back to let it fall. His short sword into its face once it had come down to his level, and that one vanished too.

The gun fired again and suddenly the room was empty. Yao could see Japan again, across the room and breathing hard. Everything was quiet.

“Is it safe?” Yao asked.

Russia exhaled heavily and nodded. “Yes. There is nothing else in this room. Anything that might have started he stopped in its tracks.” He kicked idly at the circles drawn on the floor, and Yao quickly backed off them.

Yao heard something drop heavily to the floor. Prussia swore and dropped his blades, running over to Canada were he'd sagged down the doorway.

“Shit. Kanada?” Prussia slapped his face lightly. “Are you alright? Answer me!”

“I'm just tired,” Canada said. He was slumped against the doorframe, breathing hard. “I just need to catch my breath.”

“He's cursed,” Russia said after a moment. “Not something from in here. I don't think I can do anything, Winter's touch isn't delicate enough for people.”

“What got him?” Prussia snapped. “It just tried to hang me, what did he do?”

“The front door,” Canada said. “I don't... I don't think we should touch it. I was running and I hit it hard. The... spells are different, inside and outside.”

“There's a massive hole in front of the door, how did you run into it without falling?” Japan asked.

Canada just shook his head. “I'm okay. We should get upstairs to wait, if they get the door open soon someone there can probably...”

“Of course they can help,” Yao agreed. He frowned at Prussia. “You look like you went through Hell.” He had blood from his face down his chest and right arm and his sweatshirt was crumpled by one of the doors along the wall, revealing bruises up and down his arms.

“Huh?” Prussia laughed and wiped at the dried blood on his cheek. “I'm fine, Kanada healed me most of the way! It'd take a Hell of a lot more than that to take me down!”

Yao frowned harder. “How long were you fighting them alone?”

“Not long, I managed to kill one and Kanada handled the rest of the black creatures.”

Yao looked around and started to gather the rest of the bolts, whether they were intact or not. Prussia disappeared into the room behind Canada and came out with his backpack. Yao had to figure out how to hang the crossbow off it. With some help from Canada, he managed to do so. Russia offered to carry Canada out himself.

They were checking and retrieving the rest of their weapons when a loud rumbling growl echoed through the house. Moments after, Yao's phone began to ring.

So did everyone else's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussion of consensual sex for magic use.  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.


	36. Chapter 36

Alfred went upstairs. He figured he'd start from the top and work his way back to the bottom, to verify they'd done everything they could. At the bottom of the stairs on the third floor, he found the mochi bouncing and crying piteously for his attention.

“Hey, did I leave you?” He crouched and picked it up, cradling it in one arm as he went. “I'm sorry.”

He reached the fourth floor and realized that the only place he hadn't yet seen with his Sight was the fifth floor. The wards rippled in front of him, wavering and taunting him with half-visible marks and writing. They didn't tell him anything he didn't already know, although the mochi still didn't like them. 

Alfred set it down and patted it on the head. “I promise I'll come right back out this time, okay? Wait here.”

He walked up the stairs and through the threshold spell, to the room with the clock drawn on the floor in blood. He glanced around, but the spellwork wasn't anything special, not even that which hid the door. He swallowed and forced himself to enter the hallway.

It wasn't easier seeing the spells. It wasn't easier at all. He tried to bring light to the passage, but the spells swallowed it. He reminded himself, over and over, that he could see the spells blocking light; he could see the spells for fear and confusion and discord and, if he focused only on the spells, he could see the passage. It was barely fifteen feet long, lined in the containing spells that made it seem so much longer. 

It was a small wonder Arthur seemed mad half the time, if he couldn't turn off his Sight, but immediately forgot it as he pulled open the door to the final room. He stared in horror until the ghost appeared in front of him and blocked the sight. 

“You're being a fool,” the man said.

Alfred backed up reflexively. “What?”

“There is nothing to see here. You don't need to check, go back. Your friends need you desperately in the annexe.”

“I wanted to be sure,” Alfred protested, but he let the ghost back him out of the room and down the hall. He stumbled, but made it to the door. “Who are you?” He blocked the memory of the room from his mind. “You said Arthur knew you, but I don't honestly know anything at all.”

“I died fifty years after you became your own country.”

Alfred half-fell down the stairs, shaking faintly from the aftereffects of the hallway. He crouched and cooed to the mochi until it crawled up on his shoulder once more, then started downstairs.

“You're Holy Rome, aren't you?” Alfred said. He threw open the doors as he passed, checking for people.

“Call me Ulrich,” he said. “Please.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” Alfred put a hand on the mochi to stabilize it as he half-ran through the rooms. He ignored the piano room; he couldn't see in there anyways.

“I came with my brothers.” 

Alfred's heart jumped. “Gil? Is he okay?”

“...happy as a pig in slop, actually,” Ulrich muttered.

Alfred stopped at the bottom of the stairs on the second floor and hauled out his phone. He still had no reception. He swore and shoved it back in his pocket, going back to checking rooms. The mochi cheeped worriedly at him as he went.

“Nobody else is here,” Ulrich said impatiently. “They're in the saferoom or downstairs, or in the annexe. The others have started the spell to open the doors, and assuming Dänemark doesn't break the circle it should work.”

“We can't get Feliciano to leave if he doesn't know for sure Gil's alive,” Alfred snapped. He checked the last room on the front wall, then ran to the back rooms. “How close are they to the last clock?”

“I can't tell anything about that, I don't know any of them,” Ulrich said crossly. “I know the spell's building because Erika's doing it; that's it. There's only the one left.”

Alfred stopped at the middle of the floor and opened his contact list to the G20. He went down the list and selected the people he most needed to get a hold of, then locked his phone. He still had no reception. The mochi wobbled on his shoulder and he let it slip down to curl up in his arms.

He fished out one of his chocolate bars and ate it in small bites, trying to distract himself. He closed his eyes, reciting the Bill of Rights in his head. He had memorized it a while ago; it was one way to tolerate a boring meeting. He was on the third amendment when the air growled. He unlocked his phone and hit send, before he even checked if he had reception.

He did. Thirteen numbers lit up on his screen and he switched to speaker, watching to see who picked up. 

“Whoa, I was just about to call.” Turkey said upon answering. “What's up?”

“It's okay,” Alfred said quickly. “Just needed someone outside in case they're...”

South Korea picked up. “Edelstein?”

Alfred frowned. “Where's Yong-soo?”

“He's busy. I'm watching his phone,” Austria said. “Why didn't you call me?”

“I just used my G20 contact list, sorry!”

Ludwig and Lovino answered, then Feliciano, followed by Antonio, Francis, and Arthur.

The mochi squealed at him and Alfred loosened his grip on it and bit his lip, hoping. 

A second later, Mathieu's lit up.

So did Gil's.

“Beilschmidt,” Gil said, then followed it with something Italian Alfred didn't understand. He didn't sound apologetic, or almost did, except it was clearly some kind of brag. 

Alfred wondered if something had gone wrong with the phone until Feliciano gasped and started to cry. Ulrich muttered something insulting about bragging at the worst times, but Alfred was glad. It was Gilbert for real this time. Lovino shouted something into the phone in what sounded like the same language.

Alfred groaned. “Okay, can we move back into something most of us understand here?” He said it in common Italian to drive home the point, and Lovino mumbled an apology.

“So it's really Pŭlŭshi this time?” Yao asked.

“Yes, it is,” Lovino cnfirmed. “What's the call for, America?”

Alfred confirmed all thirteen people were in the call, then asked,“Türkiye, was that the last of the clocks?”

“Yes, it was.” Turkey said irritably. “We're heading to the front door with the rest.”

“Please hurry,” Austria said.

“Are you in trouble?” Alfred asked.

“Not quite yet, but more help would be appreciated. None of us wish to have to redo the spell.”

“We're coming. Do you need me on the phone?” Turkey asked.

“No, you can go,” Alfred said. “Hurry. Austria, please stay on the line.”

“I will.”

There was a faint curse from China and Japan echoed him a minute later. 

Gilbert laughed. “Oh man, I haven't seen Dänemark do that in a while.”

“Would you shut up, aru! I cannot unsee that!”

“What is it?” Francis asked.

“Dänemark and Norwegen are raising power for the spell in sight of the windows,” Gilbert said, deeply amused. “I guess it wasn't hard to talk him into it.”

“Disregarding that.” Alfred groaned. “What's everyone else found out?”

“The annexe is our best chance,” Arthur said, his voice tired. “Everything else is laced with death traps we cannot break while inside.”

“Okay,” Alfred said, relieved to hear it in words. “How close is everyone to the annexe?”

“We're in the annexe,” China said. “Myself, Éluósī, Pŭlŭshi, Rìbĕn, and Jiānádà. We're mostly unharmed.”

“Where's everyone else?” Alfred said, and started towards the saferoom. He opened the door to check the room for anything hiding before settling in to guard it.

“We'll be on our way soon,” Ludwig said. “We're still in the saferoom, myself and the Italies.”

“I'm leaving now with England,” Francis said.

“I'm in the annexe basement between the two,” Antonio said. “I'll meet you at the ladder, François.”

“And yourself, Amerika?” Ludwig asked.

“I'm at the bedroom door, I'll meet you here.” Alfred swallowed. “We're all gonna make it out, okay?” There was a general sound of more or less agreement across the call, and Alfred added louder, “C'mon, we've got breakfast to look forward to at Kiku's place, yeah? I'm gonna see you all there!”

A few people laughing, and Gilbert joked about getting a hold of raw squid. 

“The doors should be open in another ten or fifteen minutes,” Austria said. “If everything goes well.”

“Assuming neither of them breaks a bone,” Yao muttered.

“That won't stop them unless they fall on the circle,” Gilbert said.

“You are all insane.”

“I'm hanging up,” Alfred said. “I'll see you all soon.” 

He ended the call and clutched his phone to his chest, breathing hard. The mochi crawled up to his shoulder and started to purr. He wanted to collapse and cry from relief, but he couldn't. He couldn't. They weren't out yet, but everyone had found each other. 

They really might make it out alive.

IIII

Feliciano could never repay Ludwig for making him answer the phone. It had been a very long time since he'd heard Gilbert speak Venexian. The monster couldn't duplicate that – a nearly dead language, half a world away from where he lived, much less reference what he had.

“I'm sorry I couldn't bring you anything back from this, but there was only four companies to go up against. That's not enough to get decent loot, you know.”

'Only four companies' – four monsters, alone, with a short sword? Feliciano was going to kill him, and keep him chained to his bed and not let him out of his sight for a month if he was making jokes about the Crusades when Feliciano wasn't there to see and feel that he was okay.

It had gotten him up again, at least, and if he just followed Ludwig and Lovino downstairs and back into the annexe one more time, he could slap that stupid grin off Gilbert's face himself and then take him home.

They could do this. They could get out.

“Are you okay?” Lovino asked cautiously. He was still speaking Venexian himself, and Feliciano walked over and kissed him on the cheek.

“I'm okay,” Feli said softly, the words comforting in his mouth.

Lovino kissed him on both cheeks again and hugged him one more time. “Okay, then let's go.”

“Are you both ready?” Ludwig asked, in modern Italian.

“Yes,” Lovino said, switching back. “Let's go. America said he'd meet us at the door?”

“Jawohl,” Ludwig said. 

He went down the ladder first, then shut it behind them. Alfred waved brightly from the doorway, the damn white thing still tucked against his neck. It wasn't doing anything, so Feliciano did his best to ignore it. 

They didn't speak more. Feliciano held Lovino's hand as they went down to the first floor and the hollow wall. Alfred looked down the ladder and startled into a grin.

“You didn't have to wait for us!” he called.

“It seemed safest,” Antonio answered. “Send Feliciano down first.”

Alfred stepped back and waved for him to go. Feliciano didn't argue; Lovino was glaring and he knew from the look on his face if Feliciano made him wait he would never hear the end of it. 

As he expected, once Feli had stepped out of the way Lovino jumped off the ladder to press into Antonio's body and kiss him hard as though they had been apart longer than fifteen minutes. Ludwig came down next. Feliciano pulled him close, needing the solidity of holding onto somebody.

Alfred shut the paper door above them and took the lead, just ahead of François leading Arthur. Feliciano started after them, before Lovino had to remind him to stay in the middle yet again. The unfamiliarity of the place made him feel nauseous.

Would it really be this easy?

Except it hadn't been easy. Alfred and Arthur and Ludwig and Gilbert and Antonio had almost died. They'd barely managed to keep themselves together. They wouldn't be getting anywhere if Lovino hadn't woken everyone else up and been followed to the mansion. They still had to cross the annexe, and wait for the door to open to get out.

No one else had any illusions about how easy this would be, either. Alfred went up the stairs to the annexe with his gun out, throwing open the door and scanning each hallway before waving for the others to follow. François had his sword out, and Arthur followed him by gripping the back of his shirt.

“They said Finlandia's covering the north side of the house,” Feliciano said quietly, loathe to leave the dawn light coming in through the windows here. 

“Top floor or not?” Ludwig asked.

“If it's expecting us to go left, shouldn't we stay here?” Arthur objected.

“It can move too fast for that to help,” Alfred said, one hand stroking the mochi against his neck. “And if it breaks the floor on us, we're trapped in the basement again.”

“Mathieu said he had something to put over the gap in front of the door,” Francis said. “We should just stay downstairs, I think.”

“Alright.” Ludwig agreed. His body was shivering with tension. They started along the back of the house, in the same order they'd passed through the annexe basement. The house was disturbingly quiet, and their group contracted more and more as they turned the corner and started up the North wall of the house. 

They were level with the door into the front basement when something crashed through the floor in front of them, followed by a fireball. Alfred deflected the spell and nearly knocked François to the floor.

“Run!” 

Feliciano clung to Ludwig's arm and ran. Over his shoulder, he saw Ryuuzu jump down from the floor above and start after them. 

There was the crack of a rifle and shattered glass. The bullet took Ryuuzu through the chest, sending him to his knees. Ludwig jerked on Feliciano's arm and Feli hurried to follow him up the stairs. Arthur tripped and cursed and everyone stopped as François hauled him back to his feet. Feliciano drew his gun nervously, only to hear a second rifle shot and something heavy hit the ground.

“Antonio, take the others and lead them straight ahead.” Ludwig said, stopping at the top of the stairs. “I'll take Feliciano and Alfred and lead him away.”

“Ludwig!” Antonio snapped. “It's going to –”

Arthur tripped on the top stair and muffled a curse. Antonio stared at him, then nodded curtly and took his other arm and started off. Arthur tried to protest, but Feliciano didn't hear it. As soon as they heard the monster start up the stairs, Ludwig started to run, Alfred and Lovino bringing up the rear, the mochi peering out from Alfred's zipped jacket.

They reached the south side of the building and had to stop at the broken floor. The far side was covered in three rows of the flat black creatures, antennae quickly orienting their way. Behind them, Lovino fired his machine gun and stopped suddenly. There was a shriek and the wall shattered. Feli nearly fell over, but a few seconds later Lovino was at his side, his face pale as he drew his handgun instead, the machine gun nowhere in sight.

“Well, this isn't how I planned this.” Alfred laughed weakly. He turned and fired five bullets into Ryuuzu's face. The ghost stopped, shook himself and opened his mouth in a silent scream. Alfred grimaced and took a step back, only to fire into the back of his throat. Ryuuzu choked and staggered back.

“Fuck this,” Lovino muttered. He shoved his gun at Ludwig and turned, jumping into the hole and catching the far side to swing himself over and drop onto the floor below. Wood broke, but Antonio quickly said “I got you, it's okay!” and Feliciano relaxed.

Lovino was safe. Feliciano flexed his hand on his handgun.

Ryuuzu advanced again and Ludwig fired his gun and clicked empty. He threw it at Ryuuzu's face and fired Lovino's instead, but the bullets only slowed him down. Feliciano considered his knives, but he only had eight. He wouldn't be able to get them back this time. Would they do any better than guns right now?

Alfred's gun clicked empty. He popped the clip and replaced it, but was that his last? Ryuuzu looked like he might charge them at any moment, and if they fell, they would be trapped in the basement.

A light fluttered into view near the ceiling, followed by a hoarse laugh. There was a flurry of clicks and rattles behind them as creatures scrabbled at the edge of the hole and fell. Feliciano turned and found Japan and Gilbert cutting his way through them with Russia's sword.

“Keh! There's still some of these things left? Nothing bigger?” Gilbert smiled broadly and backed up. “I'm getting bored, monster. I don't like that!”

“I see why you broke your last sword,” Japan said.

“Shut up and get out of my way.” Gilbert ran at the gap and leapt the hole, landing in a run. He charged Ryuuzu. “Why won't you die?”

Ryuuzu sneered and raised a hand. Alfred shouted a word and the blast of fire splashed off a shield. Feliciano glanced back at Kiku and saw him clearing away the creatures left behind on the far side of the hole.

“What is it?” Feli asked. He pushed his gun at Alfred and got a grateful nod in response as he threw one of his own aside to put Feliciano's roughly into the holster instead.

“Igirisu said the light will tell us when the door has opened,” Japan said. “If we can keep him here and away from the others...”

Ludwig cursed and dropped Lovino's gun, pulling out his whip instead with a grim look. “Alright.”

Gilbert was thrown backwards by the next spell and bounced off the wall. Feliciano rushed over to him and touched his shoulder, the words of the spell already on his lips. Gilbert touched his hand as he did, breathing the words with him as Feliciano felt the adrenaline racing through Gil's body like a drug. He pushed it back along with the exhaustion it was masking and healed the damage beneath his bruises, new and old. 

He made himself let go. Gilbert shot him a smile and pushed off the wall, blocking Ryuuzu as he tried to rush Ludwig. Feliciano turned to check on Alfred, only to get a shake of his head. He bit his lip and watched, one of his knives appearing in his hand as he waited to see what he could do next; when it would be the most use.

Waited for the light to blink.

IIII

Timo slammed another bullet into his gun, but everyone had left his range. He could, at best, see Canada leaning against the wall by the front door and the spreading fire on the northern wall, but that was all. He knew he had helped, but it was infuriating to know he'd gotten in two perfect shots, and still the man – monster – had at worst fallen to his knees. 

He checked the mansion again, but everything was still. Some of the lights which had been on before were starting to go out. There was no sign of anyone else; the only movement at all was the flashes of India's brilliant dupatta as she ran with the rest towards the other Nations.

Timo shifted his angle to check on the spell again – and their fight. Denmark and Norway were absorbed in each other, seemingly oblivious to their audience and the creatures they were fighting off. Timo exhaled slowly, unsure if he should spend a bullet to help there or not. He had plenty left, but everything seemed... 

Something different moved in the forest. Timo stared, undecided on if he should tell Berwald or not. He stopped himself and turned on his bluetooth. 

“Call Itävalta,” he said.

A moment later, Austria picked up his phone. “Edelstein?”

“Tell Unkari, there's something different coming at her, at three o'clock.”

“Ja,” Austria said, then shouted on the news. 

Timo watched until the thing broke the treeline. He'd aimed at it, but abruptly realized he had no idea where to shoot. There was no head, no forehead, just a massive body peppered with a multitude of eyes. He aimed for a larger eye and fired. The creature clenched around the spot and stopped advancing. Hungary rushed towards it and ran into a shield that threw her off. She collapsed and Timo rapidly took over the more familiar monsters she'd been managing before. 

He took them out quickly, but more were breaking the trees as he watched. He swallowed. 

“Call Berwald,” he breathed.

“Timo?” Berwald answered. 

“You have to go, now. They're getting overwhelmed.”

Berwald didn't say anything for a second. Timo reloaded and fired again, relieved to see Hungary come back to her feet. It was light enough he didn't need night vision, but it was of little help.

“Are you done?” he asked.

Timo sighed. “I have forty bullets left; I'm more use here. They need a stronger circle. I'll come when I'm out.”

Berwald grunted, then sighed. “I love you.”

Timo swallowed hard. “I love you, too.”

The phone went dead, and Timo couldn't look to see if he'd done as he'd asked. Another four monters had cleared the trees by Hungary, and she was still trying to halt the many-eyed monster. Timo didn't know how she could succeed, but if it reached the circle... The monsters whose weak spot he knew were easy.

That was what a sniper was for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of food.  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.


	37. Chapter 37

Feliks backed out of reach long enough to change the sword from his left hand to his right. He shook out his fingers and parried another slash at his face before he could pull his gun left-handed and fire. He twisted to the side and fired again, vanishing the monster attacking Toris too.

“Take care of yourself you fool!” Toris snapped.

“Stop whining.” Feliks heard something approach and whipped around to fire at it. The monster slashed at him, only to be taken down a second later by two shots from Austria's gun. 

Toris didn't reply, and Feliks swallowed bitter worry. He missed his spear, but it took two hands to weild and he wasn't that healed yet. His fingers ached as it was. They'd rested for over an hour, but he still wasn't healed, which was positively ridiculous. He threw himself at the next monster, screaming a battle cry and forced his pains out of his mind.

To his right, Toris staggered and fell. 

“Liet? Toris!” Feliks backed up and pulled his gun; fired and missed, then fired again. He vanished the monster in front of him, only to find two more right behind it.

The creature Toris had faced picked him up and threw him at the circle. Feliks couldn't look away, couldn't see what happened, but nobody screamed. 

Not even Toris.

“Polen, I have him!” Austria shouted. “Focus!”

Feliks cursed again and threw Hungary's szabla at the monsters before running to where Toris had dropped his longsword. He picked that up and snarled, knowing he was screwed. Hungary and Switzerland were trapped on the left fighting two monsters of eyes that used magic, while Finland sniped any of the monsters that could be vanished, but he couldn't cover this side.

Feliks couldn't hold it alone. His fingers shook on the sword.

He forced his hands to close and threw himself at the monster that had thrown Toris. It slapped him back and Feliks hit the ground, his breath knocked out of him. He struggled to get up, and to breathe. 

A short spear sprouted in the monster's head from behind and the one to its left vanished as India's mace smashed into its forehead. The tall brown woman wrapped her blue scarf back around her neck and swung the mace to her right, taking out the monster on the other side. She turned on her heel to face out of the circle, her white dress shirt stained with someone's blood.

“Show off,” Mexico said. She gripped her machine gun close to her chest and started across the lawn at a jog, to join Hungary and Switzerland Feliks assumed. Behind India, Turkey and Greece came onto the lawn and filled in the holes in the perimeter on either side of her. 

Feliks got to his feet and staggered over to Toris' side. “What happened?” he asked.

“I just... lost my breath.” Toris murmured, his voice faint. “I'm sorry.”

“His heartbeat's weak,” Roderich said. “I don't know what's wrong.”

“It's been creeping up since I left the house,” Toris whispered. “I thought we'd... I thought I'd be okay until we got them out, but fighting made it worse.”

“You idiot!” Feliks punched his shoulder, knowing he was a crying mess and hating it. “Why didn't you say something? What if it was stupid simple to fix?”

“I thought I'd just be a little tired.” He closed his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

Austria pulled out his phone. “What do you think caused this?”

“I didn't notice it until I was out. The only thing I know I did Feliks didn't was touch the front door.”

Feliks pulled Toris' head into his lap and stroked his hair out of his eyes, glaring past the circle to the house and picturing it razed to the ground. 

Austria made an affirmative noise. “Has anyone inside touched the front door?” 

Feliks heard him hiss and looked up.

Roderich gestured for him to wait, leaning heavily on his cane. “Yes, Litauen did,” he carried on. “He only recently collapsed... Would that have been when the doors rattled? Perhaps it was the kind of contact, then.” He glanced over his shoulder at the circle. “We will be done soon, I hope, it can't be more than another five minutes or so.”

When he hung up, Feliks snapped “Who was it?”

“Kanada has similar symptoms to Litauen,” Roderich said. He looked anxiously at the door again. “He's the one who hit the door before we got attacked. England feels that may have affected the severity of the curse they were hit with.”

“How bad is he?” Feliks asked, because Roderich didn't look anxious unless something was bad.

“He can't get enough breath to walk, and his heart is – very weak.”

“So he's dying.” Feliks dug his fingers into Toris' hair.

Roderich nodded tersely. “Their symptoms are the same, just – different severity. They can likely hold on until the spell is done. If you can get him up again, it should help. He'll be less stiff if he keeps moving, even a little.”

“I can.” Toris said. He sat up, but had to close his eyes for a moment once he did. Feliks crouched and pulled his arm over his shoulders and stood up. Toris dug his nails into his shoulder for balance. “Will this really help?”

“If you keep walking, your heart should keep beating.” Roderich said simply. “It's all we can do.”

Toris just nodded. Feliks clung to him in return and looked around, relieved to see, while he was distracted, that Sweden, Belarus and Ukraine had joined them. Alarmingly, another of the spell-casting eyeball-monsters had shown up, but Belarus and Ukraine had pinned it even further from the centre than the other two. There was a solid wall of Nations between them and the monsters.

Feliks tried to start walking, but Toris stumbled and dragged on his shoulders before he caught his feet again. Feliks braced himself and slipped an arm around his waist, squashing his fear and rage. 

“C'mon Liet, you can do it.” He coaxed. “You're a good – fighter.” 

He turned, walking a small circle, and the front of the house came into sight. Norway and Denmark were wrapped naked around each other in front of the peeling double doors. It wasn't attractive. It was Denmark, and he was always ridiculous. He'd done nothing special this decade. The house, however... Feliks would see it burned to the ground. 

He held Toris tighter to his side and made soft coaxing noises as he continued around the circle, determined to keep him up. He just had to wait until Denmark and Norway finished. 

IIII

When they came down the wide staircase to the front door, François placed Arthur by the front wall and dropped to his knees beside Mathieu. He stroked the hair out of Mathieu's face and smiled as he opened his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” François murmured. “You look so pale.” Mathieu's skin was worse than pale; his skin looked like wax, and the only colour he had was what he'd been born with.

“I'm okay,” Mathieu whispered. “It's just a little hard to breathe, that's all.”

“Of course, you just need to rest. We're all very tired.” François shot a worried look at Arthur and got a shrug in return. “What happened?”

Mathieu shook his head. “We'll deal with it once we're out. I just... I need to close my eyes for a moment.”

“Of course.” François kissed his forehead and pulled Arthur's hand over to his shoulder, needing to know they were both okay.

“There you are!” Gilbert snapped. 

“Da?” Russia replied. There was a thud as he dropped something to the floor, and Antonio cursed.

“Be careful with that!” Antonio snapped. “We don't need to lose more of the floor.”

“It is fine,” Russia said. Francois turned to see what he was moving and instead saw Gilbert grab Russia's sword before taking off upstairs. Russia braced his arms on the large wood slab and scanned the entryway. He looked at Francois and said “You should move away from that wall. The doors will hit you when they open.”

François tried to rouse Mathieu to do so, but he got no response at first. “Mathieu... Mathieu!”

“Mm?” His eyes opened a slit, but he couldn't focus. 

François cursed softly. “Antonio, I need someone to move Arthur. Mathieu can't walk.”

Antonio came and took Arthur's hand to walk him to the wall by the stairs, leaving as soon as that was done. François carried Mathieu himself, but once he laid him down he touched his skin and recoiled. His skin had gone cool.

“Mathieu?” Francois cried. “Mathieu, s'il te plait...”

“What's wrong?” Arthur asked. 

Mathieu stirred again, but didn't open his eyes. Francois cupped his face in both hands, as though he could give him heat back. “He's cold, he's dying Arthur. I don't know what –”

Arthur reached down and touched François' hair, then found Mathieu's. He twisted his hand in Mathieu's hair and jerked his head back. “Wake up you stupid boy!” he snarled. He slammed Mathieu's head back into the wall and the boy gasped and jerked away from him. “How dare you be so fucking weak!”

François snatched Mathieu off the floor and jerked him up and away from Arthur, his heart racing in his chest. Mathieu clung to him and started to choke and sob.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he pleaded. “Don't, don't – please.”

“Mon dieu, Arthur, why would you do that?!” François snapped, struggling not to cry himself. “Why?”

Arthur stayed against the wall, his face calm. “He's awake now.” 

“Keep your hands off him! Why would you do that to him?” François wanted to punch him – hurt Arthur right back - but Mathieu's legs had given out, leaving him upright only through their grip on each other.

“Adrenaline will keep him awake,” Arthur said, as calm as if he'd simply given him tea – as if everyone in the front entry wasn't staring at him like he was as bad as the monsters. “What? Did you want the list of everything we don't have time for or access to first?”

François was shaking so badly he couldn't keep standing, but he didn't want to let Arthur near Mathieu again. He glanced at the doors, then tapped Mathieu's back to get his attention. 

“Mathieu, my dear,” he whispered in French. “Are you okay?”

Mathieu nodded weakly back. He tried to get his feet under him, but his legs couldn't take his weight. His breath had slowed some from hyperventilating, but his nails still dug into Francois' back to hold himself up.

“Why are you so angry with me?” Arthur snapped. “I helped.”

“You didn't ask.” François threw the words back with all the heat he couldn't show. He shifted Mathieu's weight until he could move back to the front wall, far enough away the door wouldn't hit them. “You didn't talk to me, or him. You don't get to traumatize him again 'for his own good', Arthur. You've done him enough harm.”

François sank down the wall and laid Mathieu across his lap. The boy was shaking, curled up as small as he could get.

“How close is Arthur now?” he whispered in French.

“Across the hall.” François responded in kind. “He still can't see, and if he tries to come to us he might fall into the basement where we can leave him.”

Mathieu laughed weakly. “Would you this time?”

“Yes.” François closed his eyes in shame. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let him near you again.”

“It's okay.” Mathieu shrugged. “I know you love him.”

“I need to check your heartbeat,” François said.

Mathieu nodded, and François carefully didn't touch more of his neck than he had to. He could still feel Mathieu flinch as he did so. His heart was racing in his neck – stronger, certainly, and faster, but François would've given anything not to have it right now. Not like that. They were all so sensitive to Arthur's temper, it wouldn't have made much difference to give them some warning.

The only reason he didn't shoot Arthur right now was because he hated the house and the monster inside it more. He could always shoot him later.

A minuter later, Arthur's phone rang. He answered it, and then gave the front a perplexed look. “Canada did, yes. What's happened? Did someone who came inside do so?” He paused, then nodded. “I believe it was then, yes. Canada's case is severe. Will we be out soon?” He kept nodding, and finally added “Well, if you can keep Lithuania moving it should help him not deteriorate as fast.” He hung up and glanced at his phone with a sneer. “Stupid.”

“Are they almost done?” Russia asked.

“Well, that's up to Denmark and Norway,” Arthur said. “The doors may not stay open long on their own, you should be close enough to get that into place as soon as they do so.”

“I understand how the house works, Angliya.”

Arthur made a cross noise and turned to lean on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as if he had meant to stand alone. François stroked Canada's hair out of his face, exhaling shakily. Of course Arthur knew other ways. Of course he wouldn't choose them, not for his family. 

“Do you want to try to stand?” Francois asked, desperate for the distraction. “If it would help.”

“I can't,” Mathieu said, his voice calm. “I can't feel my legs anymore, except for pins and needles. You'll have to carry me out.”

“Of course I will. I won't leave you until this is healed.”

Mathieu turned his head to look at him cautiously. “Who will help Arthur?”

“I do not care,” François said firmly. “Perhaps Japon. I don't believe he hates him yet.” It was hard to forget all of Arthur's problems once reminded of them again. He couldn't forget how many times Arthur had taken the easy and painful way out of a problem, not caring how it would affect someone else, even someone he claimed he loved.

Mathieu didn't respond, but his grip on François' leg was still strong. François stared tiredly at the floor, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes. Across the hall, Lovino paced from the bottom of the stairs to the hallway and back, over and over. Antonio stood against the wall and stared at the door, his face as blank as China's and Russia's – everyone simply waiting.

The front door groaned. There was the sound of metal snapping, then the doors slammed open with enough force to knock François away from the wall as the wing impacted next to him. Russia dropped the butcher block and forced it against the threshold. The doors tried to swing closed and forced him back until Antonio joined him, straining to keep purchase on the floor. China and Lovino rushed out and stopped just outside the door.

François pulled Mathieu up and over his shoulder, taking care to get out without incident. He balanced off Russia's head as he passed, then he was out. He kept going until he was past the circle and lay Mathieu down in the grass beside Poland. 

“We made it.” Mathieu laughed.

“How is he?” Poland asked. Lithuania was hanging off his shoulders, but still standing.

“Awake.” Mathieu grinned tiredly. “We'll be okay. It's over soon.”

François nodded and turned back to watch the front doors. Antonio came out a second later, but not Russia. Not Russia, not Arthur, and not anyone else – not yet.

IIII

Alfred heard the crash from the front hall, but it was still a couple seconds before he realized the fairy light was blinking. He wiped sweat off his forehead, not used to the energy drain magic took. “Are you guys going or what?” he shouted.

Japan turned and jumped back over the gap, followed by Feliciano, then Ludwig. Gilbert snarled and cut Ryuuzu's arm as he tried to cast at their backs. Alfred spoke the shield again, knowing if he wasn't careful he'd lose it again – get another burn, because Ryuuzu had gotten past him a couple times already. Gil glanced at Alfred then split, running and jumping the gap as Alfred did the same. They nearly ran into each other, and Alfred yanked Gil around the corner just as a fireball exploded behind them.

“He's gotten damn fond of that spell,” Gilbert said, a breath of giggle in his voice.

“I think he's given up on subtlety,” Alfred said. He looked ahead at the stairs and snapped at the others. “GO!”

Feliciano pushed Ludwig and Japan. “Get out first! I'll go last!”

“You're not going last!” Gilbert snapped.

“I'll stay with him!” Alfred said. “We'll get out together, but we can't make it out all at once!”

Gilbert looked like he might argue, but when he saw his brother wasn't leaving he snarled and grabbed Ludwig's arm to force him down the stairs. Japan followed them. Alfred turned and cast a ward across the top of the stairs to buy them some time. 

Feliciano turned and threw a knife through the spell, but Alfred didn't look, his attention caught as he saw Arthur stepping warily away from the wall, nobody left in the entry to help him. There was a crackle of energy behind him as Ryuuzu started to break the ward. Alfred didn't look, but he stopped wondering what Arthur had done to deserve this and changed direction to go to him.

“It's Alfred,” he said, then grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him around the hole so he didn't accidentally bump him into the mess of spell on the doors. “Ivan, Feli, on my count?”

“Da,” Ivan said. 

Alfred wanted to start, but suddenly there was a wash of heat as his ward broke. Ivan dove out the doors, but Alfred hadn't started to move. The board jerked beneath his feet and, with a sickening crack, collapsed. Feliciano screamed. Alfred hit something soft, only to have someone land on top of him. 

His Sight warned him something was coming, moments before magic snapped into being around them – Arthur's magic. Ryuuzu screamed and one door smashed open as another slammed shut.

The world went black.

The person on top of him got off and Alfred stood up quickly, realizing he was on top of Arthur. 

“Shit,” he said. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes,” Arthur said roughly. “What happened?”

“Feli?” Alfred asked. “Is that you?”

There was a soft positive noise and Alfred gave up and tried to cast light again. It was weak, and flickered, but he could see that they were in one of the small cells in the front basement of the annex. The roof above them was jagged, and pieces of the butcher block, cracked and charred, lay around the sparse furniture. The mochi squirmed out of his jacket and jumped down to the bed. Uneasily, Alfred realized he could see the orange glow of the fires started upstairs around the edges of the hole.

Alfred went to inspect the door to the small room. It was cracked, but had shut firmly behind Ryuuzu. Fresh locking spells had been put in place from the outside and, when he tried to feel it, he realized Ryuuzu was actively holding them – and likely still nearby. 

“Ulrich?” Alfred whispered, but he hoped that the ghost had gotten outside. He didn't really know. The mochi chirped and he picked it up again, holding it against his chest as he scratched its head, trying to figure out what to do. The rest of his senses told him there was a spell building, but he didn't have any idea what kind.

“They won't be able to open the door before the annexe burns,” Arthur said, his voice mild. “Not unless they get someone else to build the spell that's faster than those two were. They didn't break the spells on the door, they just forced it open.”

Feliciano made a furious noise.

“Do you have any magic to offer?” Arthur said. “I didn't think so, you only use hymns for basic purposes, nothing that would be of any use to us right now.”

Something shattered behind him, and Alfred turned with a snarl. “Both of you, cut it out! Arthur, I need to see your grimoire.”

“You don't have the power for anything in it,” Arthur complained, but he handed him the bag. 

Alfred took it and moved the mochi up to his shoulder. He called the light to his side as he flipped through the book for any ideas. One of the pages was dog-eared and Alfred stopped to read. It was one of Arthur's premade circles, one that only required the power to back it – like the spells that had burnt him out the night before. 

“What about your unmaking spell?” Alfred asked, trying to understand the coded writing Arthur had made the notes for it in.

“It would tear the whole house apart,” Arthur said dismissively. “And it would kill you; you barely have enough for it when you're well, much less after the grinder we've been through.”

Feliciano tapped Alfred's shoulder, then asked “How much?” and gestured widely.

“It'll undo every spell in a radius of a half kilometre – including the ones Ryuuzu's doing now.” Alfred said, his voice just as soft. If they were unlucky, the whole house would go up in flames if the power raised by Ryuuzu was high enough – with them trapped right next to it. Alfred licked his lips. 

“Can we die?” Feli said.

Alfred started to yes, of course they'd likely die, then realized that if the spells were gone, perhaps they'd come back. They wouldn't be trapped – nothing would be trapped anymore. Depending on what spells Ryuuzu used on himself, he might be ripped out of existance while they were at it.

Better yet, the other Nations could come onto the property after them – if he could make the spell take.

Alfred tore the spell circle out of the book and shoved the grimoire back into the bag. He handed the bag to Feliciano then pulled Arthur to his feet. The mochi dropped off his shoulder with a cry. 

“What?” Arthur said, then, louder, “What are you doing?”

“Feli, I need a knife,” Alfred said, watching as Arthur's face tensed. Feliciano gave him the knife without question and Alfred moved Arthur up to the door. He took the knife and used it to pin the circle to the wall behind him, starting the spell and backing up. Arthur put one hand to the wall, looking around fearfully. 

“Alfred, what are you doing?” Arthur repeated. “If you rip this place open, we'll be crushed under a burning building with that ghost still trying to kill us!”

Alfred pulled out his gun and popped the clip to verify he still had any bullets left, then put it back in, watching silently as Arthur started to shake. He knew what the noise was. He pulled his hand off the wall and took a step towards them. 

“You're going to let loose a demon if you break him out of this house,” he insisted. “Nobody outside has the power to contain him, this place is teeming with power he can just take with him! The unmaking won't make that disappear!”

“He's Japan's problem, not ours,” Alfred said coldly. “They're just outside. You don't know the first thing about how half them work. Why should I believe you?”

“You've never handled this kind of spell alone,” Arthur snapped. “You won't know what to do with that much power. You'll waste your only chance to get this right. I don't have another unmaking spell in the book, Alfred!”

Alfred started to shake. “Arthur, take a step back.”

“You need my help to do this,” Arthur repeated. “Please let me. I promise I won't...”

“Don't lie,” Alfred said. “Please. I'm so tired of you lying to me.”

“You're not necessary for this,” Feliciano said, his voice oddly clear. “Try to keep some dignity, Arthur.”

“You need to take a step to your right,” Alfred said. He sighted down the gun to where he remembered the spell circle was behind him. “If you don't move, it's going to make this hurt more than it has to. I don't want to make a mess.”

“I would,” Feliciano said simply. “It's all he's good for.”

Arthur fumbled at his side and started to breath harder as he realized he didn't have his bag – didn't have anything on him. “Alfred, you can't do this... you wouldn't. You're better than this.”

“There's never been anything you wouldn't do,” Alfred said. His arms were shaking and he didn't know if it was what he was doing or the memories that brought up. They'd had this kind of talk before. The last time they'd had this exchange, it hadn't been Arthur begging.

He'd never heard Arthur beg.

“I can make him move,” Feliciano said, with a vicious twist in his voice.

“Shut up!” Arthur snapped. “Stop corrupting him! This is your fault!”

“Take a step to your right,” Alfred said. “Or I will tell him to make you move.”

He had a giddy, terrifying thought of what would happen if he had to ask, but Arthur moved. Alfred closed his eyes, picturing the target in his line of sight and not what was between him and it. He breathed the words of the spell and his finger slowly pulled back on the trigger. The gun jumped on the last syllable and Arthur shouted in pain, dropping to his knees as the bullet bit through the circle and the wall behind. 

Alfred dropped his gun and lunged forward, grabbing Arthur's arm. He dragged him back against the wall as the spell blasted out around them. There was a roar of power and sound – and then the house came crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for abusive FACE family dynamics.  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> "S'il te plait" is the informal version of "S'il vous plait" and is basically "Please" in French.
> 
> What Poland almost says instead of "fighter" is probably best explained in apologetic and gratuitous porn for all the Liet/Pol fans I've just given heart attacks...


	38. Chapter 38

Gilbert reached the edge of the spell circle before he collapsed, rolling onto his ass to watch Feliciano and Alfred to make it outside. He startled as Alfred veered left and then came back with Arthur leaning on his shoulder.

He hadn't noticed François had left him. He had half-turned to see what François was doing when Russia dived out of the house and something dark smashed into the board over the hole in the floor. Alfred, Arthur and Feliciano dropped out of sight and the doors slammed shut. 

“NO!” Gilbert shot to his feet and surged forward. Someone grabbed him by the arm and roughly forced him to his knees. Gilbert dug his nails into the arm, then turned and bit them. The person grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.

“Don't make me choke you,” Norway said. “You can't help them.”

“Fuck you,” Gilbert snarled, but he stopped fighting. His body was shaking with exhaustion, but he couldn't do nothing. “Don't let go,” he said, and looked to his right.

Denmark was holding Ludwig back, dressed in only his pants. Ludwig was sobbing and struggling hard enough to jerk Denmark's feet across the grass at times.

“Why couldn't you keep the doors open?” Lovino screamed. “Get them out! You have to open the doors!”

“The spell takes time!” South Korea snapped back. “We can't just reuse the circle. Does anyone here even have the energy left?”

“Shoot me if you have to!” Lovino yelled. “For God's sake, get them out!”

“It doesn't work like that!” 

“I'll try,” Erika snapped. “But you have to be quiet!”

Gilbert swallowed. “Go help her,” he said. “I won't run.”

Norway hesitated, then let him go and went, picking up his shirt and pulling it on over the marks up and down his back. Gilbert stayed on the ground and dug his nails into his knee. He was close enough to overhear Norway and Erika as they spoke.

“I don't know where else to start,” Erika said. “It's all such a mess. The door takes so much effort, but I'm not sure how to get in through the wall.”

“We could try to go through a point weakened by the fire,” Norway suggested. “I'm not exactly perfect at controlling it, but –”

“I can manage fire,” South Korea said and walked up to join them. “If you open the wards again, the fire should be damaging the spells it encounters, unless this type isn't affected by that.”

“It is,” Erika said, “but we don't know if the damage will weaken the spells or simply make them snap once the signs are corroded enough.”

“They do,” Russia said. He pushed himself up from the ground and stopped on his hands and knees. “They have a tendency to explode upon being interfered with.”

“That should open more of the wall for us.” Norway shrugged. “The fire on the north wall is far enough from the front door that as long as we stay far enough back it won't do us harm.” Norway glanced up and down the sides and exhaled sharply. “Can one of you two go finish off the spell-casting monsters?” he suggested. “I haven't heard Finland fire in some time, he may be out of bullets.”

Erika swore under her breath but left to do so. South Korea glowered at the north edge of the house and as good as the suggestion sounded, it would take time Gil was not sure they had. They had to get to the burning north wall and set up there when there was still at least a dozen monsters being finished plus the two magic-using blobs.

Norway suddenly took a step back and raised one hand as if to guard his face. He took another half-step back, then his eyes went wide. He ran back from the house, shouting. “Russland, India – run!”

Russia didn't ask; he pushed himself to his feet and ran from the house, taking Gil's arm to help him up and follow. India broke from her fight and ran. Gilbert wondered for second why he'd included her, when the house roared. 

Every window in the house blew out; the doors blasted off in both directions. A column of fire roared up through the roof, then the annexe began to collapse in on itself. The monsters they'd been fighting vanished. Canada and Lithuania suddenly gasped and started to cough. 

“The cave's going,” Antonio said. “Look!”

Gilbert stared and saw as a few trees began to sway, then fall. The annexe roof crumpled and dragged the mansion down with it. The siding turned grey and crumbled from the walls in pieces.

“What happened?” Lovino asked.

“Someone cast an unworking,” Norway said. 

“A powerful one,” South Korea added, unhappy. “With what power?” 

The mansion gave way and crashed over backwards on top of the annexe. Gilbert flinched, then stood up and walked towards the debris. There was no walls left standing. The pile was a mass of broken glass and plaster that groaned and creaked under its own weight. Smoke rose with no sign of the fires beneath.

“Südkorea,” he said. “Can you get the fire under control? If they were still under the front door, they might've made it. And even if they didn't,” he raised his voice and turned to glare before anyone said otherwise. “We're getting them out anyways. What all did that spell undo?”

“Everything,” Norway said. “Possibly not the spell preventing Stepping, but everything that trapped you in the mansion is gone.”

“Then get the fire under control and someone needs to figure out how to move the debris.”

“You are in no condition to go back in there!” Roderich snapped. 

Gilbert turned on him. “Don't fucking tell me what to do!”

“I'm going,” Erszébet said. “Gil, stay there. Svájc, Svéderorzság, Finnorzság – come with me.”

Switzerland looked like he might object, but Erika gave him a look and he went over to the building with a scowl. “The spells are all gone?”

“Yes,” Norway said, although his tone was cautious. “I'm not sure the spellcaster is, but the material itself is inert.”

“I sense life, but nothing else.” South Korea said. 

Switzerland nodded and started out onto the debris, moving carefully as Finland started onto the debris from the other side as the two smallest Nations selected. They found a place to start and called to Hungary and Sweden to join them. Gilbert stood by and waited, knowing he could do nothing and hating it. As the others began to catch their breath, Mexico dumped her gun by the injured and came to join the people disassembling the debris, India at her side. 

Ludwig had calmed down, and most of those able to had begun to help move the debris when something underneath surged up beneath them. The Nations scattered as the wreckage was ripped apart and the monster dragged itself from the hole. It bore a twisted burn scar across the left side of its face. Switzerland swung his machine gun around and fired, but within a second he clicked empty. The monster grabbed half a wall and threw it at him in response. Switzerland dodged and the board buried itself in the ground where he'd stood. 

Erszébet snatched her halberd off the ground and attacked. She was knocked off her feet back onto the grass as it stepped clear of the debris. It halted at the threshold of the house and froze. It finally took another step forward, then fell to its knees as it was forced back into human guise. 

“Erika –” Erszébet began.

“It's not me!” 

The monster threw a fireball at Erszébet and it slammed into her chest, throwing her to the ground. She screamed once before the fire streamed away to South Korea. Erzsébet scrambled out of the way, and Sweden took her place.

There was a sound of a cork popping, louder than could be natural, and the spirit vanished instantly. Light flashed and darted from where it had stood to Norway. Norway capped a flask and screwed it shut tight. “There. He's gone.”

“Why didn't you do that sooner?” South Korea snapped.

“The bottle had to be empty.”

“If you're the one who forced it to drop the guise –”

Norway startled. “You didn't?”

“No, of course not!” South Korea stared back, obviously unhappy. “It wasn't you?”

“Maybe it was Arthur or Alfred,” Erika said, uncertain.

“The spell Arthur used to force it to wear its own face was broken as well,” Norway said.

“Maybe he redid it?” 

“Is the debris clear of anything but the three people we're looking for?” Erszébet snapped. “Dél-Korea, can you be certain this time? Take your time.” She pulled her shirt closed as the charred fabric continued to crumble. Gilbert got up and stripped out of his own shirt to hand it to her. Erszébet startled and waved him off. “I don't need it, Gilbert, its fine.”

“I'm not doing anything else to help, I don't care if I'm shirtless.” He shoved it into her hands and jerked his binder back into place and relaced it loosely. “I've slept with half the people here as it is.”

Erszébet dropped the halberd and pulled his shirt on overtop of her own. “You're an idiot, you know that?”

Gilbert grinned back at her and didn't answer. She punched his shoulder, then pulled him over and kissed him. Gil kissed back until South Korea announced everything was clear. Erszébet shooed him away and Gilbert sat down in the grass where he was. 

The hole the monster had ripped in the debris helped. It had cleared a large portion of the wreckage from the front of the house. Within a few minutes of stabilizing the debris again, Alfred called out.

“Hey, is that you guys?"

“Yes,” Switzerland replied. “Where are you?”

“Against the front wall, like, in a pocket.” Alfred replied. “We're okay.”

“All three of you?” Erszébet asked.

“Yes, I'm fine,” England called. He sounded weak and pained, but Gil would've been more surprised if one of them hadn't been hurt.

“I'm fine,” Feliciano said as well. 

Gil got back to his feet and stood at the edge. Lovino came to stand beside him. The sun had come halfway up the treeline when England was brought up to solid ground. Japan took his arm and they sat on the ground not far away; England's stomach was bloody, but the bleeding had stopped. He was surprisingly quiet. Immediately after him, the mochi came out and huddled nervously near the edge.

Feliciano came up next. Ludwig got up to go to him, and Feli pressed his face into his chest and clung to him. Lovino went to speak to him as they retreated. Gilbert waited. He needed to be sure everyone was out okay.

When Alfred came up high enough to see the mess, he laughed nervously. “Holy shit, what happened?”

“You've never seen an unworking before, I take it?” Norway said.

“Hell no! Biggest spell of my life. Did it all come down?”

“Yes.”

“If that's everyone, can you please come off the debris?” South Korea said. “There's a fire that's been building inside that I would like to release.”

The Nations quickly retreated from the wreckage. Honda got England to his feet again and moved away, and everyone backed up until South Korea was satisfied. He opened a small jar and flames leaped out and began to consume the mess. 

“We should make sure it doesn't spread,” Erika said tiredly.

“Can we Step or not?” South Korea asked. 

“Do you wish to be the one to try?”

“How wide was the unworking?” Norway asked.

“Half a kilometre?” Alfred said. “I don't really know.”

“Do you remember the feel of the outer wards?” Norway asked.

South Korea frowned and took a step forward and vanished. He came back immediately. “They're gone. They must've been tied to a point inside the house.”

“I'll ward the South side of the house if you take the North.” Erika said simply. 

Gilbert heard Feliciano make an unhappy noise, but both magic-users left without another word. Gilbert went to him with a tired smile. “It's okay, Feli. We're all okay. Its over.”

Feliciano reached out and grabbed his hand. He mouthed 'I want to go home'.

“I'm not sure any of us are up to Stepping that far even without the wards. Maybe just to the hotel room?” 

Feliciano nodded.

Gil looked at Ludwig. “Can you do it, you think? Yours or mine or his.”

“I'll meet you there,” Lovino said. “I'll get Antonio to Step us to Feli's room okay?”

“Right then!” Gil laughed. “We can do the thing with Japan tomorrow or something. I wanna go lay down in a bed.”

Feliciano nodded and dragged Gilbert closer.

“Japan, Amerika,” Ludwig said. “We will meet back at the hotel?”

“Oh, yeah sure!” Alfred said. The mochi bounced at his feet until he picked it up. “See you tonight! We can check in on the event page when we get there, so we all know when everyone's made it back to the hotel, alright?”

There was a sound of agreement and Ludwig didn't wait for more. He wrapped his arms around Feli and Gil both and Stepped back to the hotel. Gilbert stepped back immediately and untied his binder, dumping it on the floor followed by his pants. He glared from the bed to the bathroom.

“Fuck this. I call the shower first.”

IIII

When America said to meet up at the hotel later, Kiku looked for France to see if he wished to take Arthur home with him. When he found him, however, France had called Alfred over to himself and Canada. Kiku waited, not wanting to interrupt him reassuing himself the younger Nations were okay.

Liechtenstein and South Korea came back to watch the fire burn. Poland and Lithuania settled by the perimeter to watch as well; Hungary and Austria had left. China wandered over to speak to South Korea as Russia and his sisters left together. The Nordics spoke quietly to Liechtenstein before leaving as well, and Switzerland had once again become his sister's shadow.

When Kiku turned to look for France again, he was gone. 

Well. He didn't wish to stay here any longer. Kiku gently shook Arthur's shoulder. “Would you like to come back to my home with me?” Arthur had spare clothing there, and it would perhaps be more quiet while whatever had happened between him and France blew over. After how things had gone in the mansion, giving everyone some space seemed wise.

Arthur exhaled slowly and nodded. “Please.”

Kiku helped him stand up before Stepping into the back hallway of his home. “Do you want to sit in the hot springs before we lay down to rest?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” He put a hand lightly on Kiku's arm. “Can you walk me to a seat?”

Kiku did so and touched his shoulder once he was there. Arthur found the seat by touch, then sat and started to undress. Kiku did the same himself, wondering if he wanted to try and save the clothes or if he would feel better if he burned them. He retrieved towels and a rag for them both, but when he checked on Arthur again he saw that quite a lot of blood was still stuck to Arthur's skin.

“Do you want to wash that off before you get in?”

“What?” Arthur asked, then touched his stomach and swallowed. “Ah. Yes, I should.”

“I can get it for you if that's alright.”

Arthur laughed a little and tried to smile, although it came out like a grimace. “That would be fine, yes. I don't think you have any grudges against me.”

Kiku didn't want to ask. That question had been building every hour they'd spent in the mansion. Kiku had known the European Nations could be tense around each other, but he had never spent so long among them before. He filled a bucket and came over to wipe up the tacky blood. Doing so, he couldn't help but notice that the wound didn't look like an accident: it looked like he'd been shot. 

“Arthur...” Kiku asked. “What happened, in the house? Who worked the spell?”

“You mean, did Alfred shoot me?” Arthur said bluntly. 

“Yes.”

Arthur laughed bitterly. “I don't even know how he thought of that, he's normally so stupid.”

“Thought of what?” Kiku asked, his tone carefully neutral.

“Manipulating me to power the spell.” Arthur sighed softly. “Is that all of it?”

“Yes, it is.” Kiku wrung out the cloth. “I'll dump this and walk you out to the hot springs, one moment.”

He did so and came back, unsure if he wanted to ask again. He didn't have to.

“I never taught him how to do that,” Arthur said, bitter. “He never showed any interest in it. He doesn't even like magic. Other sacrificial magics bothered him; using someone's emotions in a spell is the most difficult.”

Kiku nodded quietly and talked Arthur through getting into the water, then sat next to him. Once they were settled, he prompted him to begin again himself. “Is this something you did often, yourself?”

“No,” Arthur said. “Not around him, he's too unpredictable. It would've upset the spell.”

“But that is...” Kiku struggled to find the words. “I mean, I assume that's what your past self did to bring Supein and Romano back?”

“Well...” Arthur stopped, considering. “Likely, yes. Romano would be easy to use that on. His fury's very strong and easy to trigger.”

“Mhmm,” Kiku closed his eyes and inhaled, soaking in the heat of the water. “So, perhaps, Alfred thought of it because he has seen you do it in... other contexts.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur said.

“Why did Furansu leave you, Arthur?” Kiku asked gently. “I assume you had another fight.”

Arthur turned away. Kiku waited in silence, content to let Arthur answer him or not. 

The silence lasted several minutes.

“Do you think you should hate me?” Arthur said carefully. “Now that you've seen how much everyone else does.”

“Should I?” Kiku asked. “I realize you have... history with the others we do not share. I understand that you make enemies when you're an empire. You were one for a very long time.”

Arthur laughed. “Francis was my enemy long before I was an Empire. We keep trying. It has never lasted; this is the longest we've gone without... If we hadn't been in the mansion, he'd have shot me – For me helping his child, at that!”

“You mean Kanada?” Kiku frowned. “What was it?”

“He was dying.”

Kiku ran his hand through the water as he thought. “We signed a contract inside, Arthur, to only give help we knew was wanted, to those we knew would be willing to accept it.”

Arthur frowned, but he didn't turn away.

Kiku hesitated, but made himself finish his thought. “Did you not ask first?”

“I...” Arthur gritted his teeth. “Perhaps I should have warned France, yes.”

“Perhaps you should apologize to Kanada himself,” Kiku said gently. “If he was the one you hurt when trying to give him aid.” 

Arthur nodded and swallowed. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

Kiku halted, unsure where his thoughts had gone. “Who?”

“Alfred.” Arthur's breath shook. “I thought he would. I believed him.”

Kiku startled. “Why?”

“Because...” Arthur gritted his teeth. “Because he has reason to hate me, just like France does – like China does.” He rubbed at his face and sighed. “I knew we could get out by killing someone, Kiku. As soon as I saw the hub, I knew the shortest way out would be if someone died.”

Kiku startled. “You said you could work around it. Why didn't you start there?”

Arthur snorted. “More than half of those present would love to kill me. If I hinted that might be the way, I didn't trust them not to just take it.”

Kiku stared at him. He wanted to ask why; but he didn't. That secret belonged to more people than Arthur. His voice shook as he spoke. “Doesn't that bother you?”

Arthur was silent for a minute. Finally, he shrugged. “It does now.”

“Well,” Japan swallowed. “Perhaps you can change it.”

Arthur laughed. “I wouldn't know where to begin.”

Kiku made an agreeable noise. “We can discuss it while you stay with me. I am happy to have you until your sight is back.”

Arthur moved closer to him in the hot spring and found his hand to take hold of it. He squeezed it gently and smiled. “Thank you. I would like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussion of abusive FACE family dynamics.  
> No other content warnings for this chapter.
> 
> (For the curious, before I get a dozen comments: Yes, I intended it to be Ulrich who forced the monster to change back.)


End file.
